riverviewlogs | [open] cast an illusion

Entry tags:

[open] cast an illusion

who: cisco + anyone!
what: memory share event & catch-all
when: october
where: anywhere
warnings: murder, torture, bullying

MEMORIES

Feel free to either have your character text Cisco (or comment on this post but indicate a text message) about having a vision / dream of his past, or to come to where he is to discuss it.

A. MURDER {third person dream OR first person vision}

[watch here

This memory is both intensely traumatic and one that Cisco has relived many many times. Have fun with it if you want, there may be small distortions - sometimes Cisco seems to remember Eobard's demeanor being gleeful, even smiling as he kills him. There may be odd gaps here and there, as well as inconsistencies. Or you can play it totally straight, just as it happened.]

B. VIBING {first person; vision}

[watch here (memory lasts up 'til 2:30)

This memory is likely to come across in jumbled pieces at first, and then more clearly as the week progresses. What's most important is that this memory captures the subjective experience of vibing from Cisco's perspective. So at one moment the memory is of looking down at a microscope slide of sand, feeling intense unease and fear, to hands reaching out and touching the sand. Once that contact is established, there is a swooping feeling, like missing a step going down stairs or plummeting on a roller coaster, and then the world goes static-y, with strange flashes of light, blurred vision, and an eerie blue tint. The warehouse that Cisco sees feels intensely present, though sounds are a bit muffled and occasionally there are jumps and starts. The end of the vision is as jarring as the start, and afterwards there is the confrontation with Stein, and a palpable feeling of panic over being interrupted and witnessed.]

C. PRISONER {first person; vision}

[watch here

This memory is clear and vivid, accompanied by feelings of hunger, exhaustion, frustration. Feel free to supplement after the cutoff at the end of the scene a moment where Cisco begs that he's already made them weapons (the heat, cold, and gold guns) and that's enough, and also Snart threatening to just out and out kill Dante, both of which are confirmed to happen but aren't shown in the clip I linked.]

D. BABY NERD PT 1 {third person; dream}

[ Cisco can't be older than nine or so, and he's adorable. We're talking a criminally cute child. His hair is cut short, which makes his ears stick out a little, and there's a tooth missing his bottom row of teeth. He's small for his age, (looks even smaller because he's wearing what are clearly hand-me-down clothes), all round-cheeked and bright-eyed. He comes bounding up to a bench in what looks like a small neighborhood park. Sitting on the bench is a pretty brunette girl with a high ponytail and big earrings, and a boy that looks a little like Cisco, around five years older. Cisco, bubbly and excited, asks: ]

Hey Val, hey Dante, do you wanna see what I made?

[ Dante, who has a hand very obviously and purposefully perched on Val's knee, glares absolute daggers at his little brother, but before he can say anything she answers with genuine interest: ]

Yeah, totally.

[ Cisco beams and pulls the lid off the shoebox. Inside is rather ugly-looking device, clearly cobbled together with materials from a bunch of different things. But Cisco pulls it out carefully as if it's the most precious thing on earth and holds it up, explaining in a delighted rush, what it is and how he made it. He has apparently cobbled together pieces from a broken cell phone, an old malfunctioning digital camera, and a half-smashed mp3 player, into a frankenstein'd device that can take pictures, make phone calls, and play music, too. Val sits up as he explains, going from indulgent to this kid with his little doodad to genuinely excited. Cisco hands it over to her and she tests it out, taking a photo of the beaming Cisco, clicking a number code onto the pad which makes 'I Could Fall In Love' by Selena play (though only loud enough that she has to hold the thing to her ear like a phone to hear it). Then, she even uses it as a phone, calling her mom, exclaiming that it really works, and hanging up again. ]

Cisco, this is so cool.

[ She jumps to her feet, saying that she's got to go get her best friend from the corner store across the street to bring her to see it, too, and goes rushing off. Cisco just stands there, holding the thing and beaming like he's never been more proud of himself in his entire life. ]

E. BABY NERD PT 2 {third person; dream}

[ (Continued from the last one, for anyone who wants an angst component)

As this scene was happening with Val, Dante was getting more and more visibly annoyed, trying to redirect attention back to himself. As soon as she leaves Dante snatches the device from Cisco, turning it over once or twice, unimpressed. Cisco's face falls, shifting from joy to trepidation, like he knows something bad is going to happen. Dante doesn't disappoint; he tosses the thing in the air and then catches it as it falls. Cisco pleads: ]

Dante, don't!

[ Which, of course, only seems to encourage the older boy. Dante throws it into the air, higher this time, and catches it, but Cisco winces, clearly terrified that he'll drop it. He tries to grab it away from his older brother, but Dante gets to his feet, holding it above his head. ]

Come on, don't be such a fucking girl, I'm not gonna drop it.

[ He tosses it into the air with enough momentum to it goes behind him and he has to spin to catch it. Cisco keeps pleading with him to quit it, trying to wrestle it away from Dante, who only laughs. It's inevitable, what happens eventually. Dante hurls the thing much too high, and it's hard to say, whether he was really trying to catch it or not. Either way, it slips between his hands and crashes onto the asphalt, shattering into about a dozen pieces. Cisco scrambles to pick up all the pieces, but the lens from the camera has shattered and the casing is cracked. ]

Oops.

[ Dante shrugs, sounds absolutely unapologetic. Cisco starts sniffling, fighting back tears as he tries to fit the thing back together. He starts putting the pieces back into the shoebox, wiping tears from his cheeks as they start to fall but saying nothing, not even looking at his brother. Dante, for his part, says scornfully: ]

Seriously, Cisco, it was an accident. You gotta stop being such a sissy all the time. It doesn't look good.

[ Then he walks off in the direction that Val had gone without another word, leaving Cisco to clean up the rest of the mess. ]

OR hit me up on plurk to plot something else!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Cisco listens to Eddie, his throat tight; even if he's never been in the situation Eddie's in right now, hearing the emotion in his boyfriend's voice is enough to make him feel a surge of empathetic heartbreak. He had never looked into what this girl's story was, had indeed forgotten about seeing her, in light of what happened after, and the other things going on in his life at the time.

But Eddie had remembered her. And Eddie, it's all too clear, feels awful thinking about her, and her case, and the fact that he hadn't caught the people responsible. Not for his own sake, but for Angelica's. Cisco squeezes Eddie's hand, wishing his guilt were some physical weight that Cisco could lift off his shoulders. ]

Eddie... [ Cisco is torn for a moment, unsure what is the best option. In the end, he decides, a warning is better than nothing. ] ...listen to me, baby, this next bit is gonna be bad. Okay? But I want you to keep holding my hand, and remember- remember you're here, and you're alive, and- and it's all gonna be okay.

[ As he's speaking, the dream Cisco shuts the door behind him and turns to speak to Singh. But he merely opens his mouth and closes it again, for obvious reasons. Singh has collapsed into his chair and buried his face in his hands. There is the sound of a tiny, muffled sob, and the police captain's shoulders start to shake faintly. The dream Cisco, closes his mouth again, apparently deciding that silence is the best plan. It's clear that Singh is doing everything in his power to master his emotions and hold this back, but another little sob breaks from him, all the more awful for how hard he is trying to muffle it. The dream Cisco sets down his paperwork, coming over to Singh's desk, all protocol forgotten. He rests a hand against Singh's shoulder, gently, which seems to only make the crying worse. ]

[For a moment, Eddie doesn't really understand Cisco, how he could say the next part is going to be bad, because what he's seen is already awful, it's already almost unbearable. Eddie's throat feels tight, his chest aches, his breath comes in hitches, but they're inside Singh's office and for a moment his eyes are on Cisco, the dream Cisco and not the one holding his hand, squeezing it tight, offering him support.

Cisco is explaining it's going to be bad but he wants him to keep holding his hand, to remember he's here and alive and it's going to be okay. Nothing feels okay right now, though, not when he follows dream-Cisco's gaze and sees Singh with his face in his hands, the slight shaking of his shoulders, the tiny sounds he makes as he tries not to cry. It's enough that Cisco goes over to him, presses a hand against his shoulder, silent and supportive, and Eddie can't breathe.

He can't breathe for long enough that his head starts spinning a bit, he starts to feel dizzy. He hadn't expected this, hadn't known Singh cared that much about him. He knows, of course, that every police officer is deeply affected when another officer is killed in the line of duty, he's felt that pain of loss before. But this is different, seeing Singh crying into his hands, trying to hide it from Cisco.

Eddie can't say anything. He just stands still, staring at Singh, staring at Cisco with his hand on Singh's shoulder, staring at this, the void that his death had left in the world around him.]

[ It is strange; Cisco had always thought his memory of this moment was so vivid, so crystal-clear. But he'd forgotten how entirely silent it was. His dream-self doesn't say a word to Singh, and Singh doesn't say a word to him. He just gives up on fighting back and weeps, almost-silently, sitting very still, moving only enough to grab a tissue from the little box on his desk and to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

But it is not the two of them that he focuses his attention on, now. He had been there for Singh in that moment, hopes that he had made that sudden burst of grief a little less lonely and a little less painful simply by his presence. Right now, the one who needs him, the one who he wants to comfort, is Eddie. Eddie, who is being forced to watch someone he'd respected and liked, a man not given to emotional displays or vulnerability of any kind, break down sobbing because he'd had to tell someone about Eddie's death.

His boyfriend's face looks pale - too pale - and Cisco sees him swaying a bit, unsteady on his feet. Cisco comes around to stand in front of him, letting go of his hand, but only so that he can draw Eddie into a tight hug, pulling Eddie's head down against his shoulder and murmuring: ]

Just breathe, okay, just... deep breaths in and out, with me.

[ Cisco focuses on breathing deep and loud, modeling it, wanting Eddie to follow suit. He only does it a few times before the memory, or dream, or whatever is suddenly, abruptly, gone. He's in the dark, laying down, in a bed. His bed. He's awake, and this is real. ]

[Eddie's fingers keep tightening and going slack against Cisco's hand as he watches Singh crying into his hands, weeping silently and then cleaning his face. Singh's eyes are red-rimmed and wet, his face twisted slightly into an expression of misery, and Cisco stands close by, leaves his hand on Singh's shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort, while the real Cisco comes around in front of Eddie. Stands there and looks up at him, draws him into a hug and guides his head down against his shoulder. Cisco's words are gentle and careful, comforting, and Eddie listens to him, follows his instructions.

Breathing in, and out, in and out, along with Cisco, at the same time as him, feeling their chests press together as they do, trying to force air past the tightness of his throat. Everything hurts, and Eddie closes his eyes.

Then, abruptly, he is awake. His eyes are open in the dark in the room and bed he shares with Cisco, the ceiling peppered with glow-in-the-dark stars, the sheets and comforter warm, Cisco's solid body pressed against him. Eddie's mouth opens, then closes, and he brings his hands up to cover his face, makes a quiet, choking sob, stuck somewhere between his chest and throat.]

[ Any uncertainty Cisco might have had about the reality of the dream he'd just had disappears the moment he hears Eddie sob. Cisco is lying on his back, with Eddie's shoulder and side pressed to his; he rolls over immediately so he can pull Eddie to his chest, wrap himself around Eddie like a protective blanket.

There are tears pricking his own eyes, making his vision go blurry, but Cisco ignores them, pressing a kiss against the back of Eddie's shoulder and curling an arm tightly around Eddie's chest, hand resting over his heart, holding him tightly. He makes soft, wordless shushing noises of comfort, murmuring: ]

It's okay... it's okay, baby, I got you. Let it all out.

[ Cisco can feel the way Eddie's trembling, the awful choking inhales as he tries to breathe through the tears. It hurts more than he would have thought possible, to see and hear and feel Eddie in this much pain. ]

[One of the things that had, perhaps, affected Eddie the most in that memory had been the way Singh cried. Quiet, muffled into his hands, restrained, it's the way Eddie usually cries, and so he knows, is intimately aware, of the pain behind it, the awful way it seems like it will wash away all semblance of self-control and strength left in a person if it's not held restrained behind thick, strong walls.

Right now, he's feeling it, that awful, yawning pit of despair and misery and loneliness, the sickening unfairness of it, the guilt at having left everything unfinished, of not being able to say good-bye to so many people, the weight of knowing how much grief he'd caused. The endless, endless second-guessing of a choice that he never really ends up questioning on any real level. The vicious, angry, self-pitying railing against the unfairness of it, the injustice of having everything fall apart, of being put in a situation where he had to die, where he had to kill himself. The memory of how bad it had hurt, the way his chest felt, the way his throat felt, the way Iris' face had looked, the way Joe had screamed 'what did you do?!' at him.

How cold it had been. The knowledge in his gut that even if he was being held by people, being mourned by people, he was dying alone. That awful aching knowledge that even if he hadn't died, he would've lost everything.

Cisco is rolling over against him, and distantly, through the ringing in his ears, Eddie can hear Cisco speaking, saying it's okay, calling him baby, saying he's got him and to let it all out, and Eddie chokes on his sobs.]

If I...if I start, I'm never gonna stop, Cisco...

[Lying still in the bed, trembling, feeling like he's a bathtub plug holding back an entire ocean of grief, he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to process this, overwhelmed with guilt over even having this grief inside him.]

[ Cisco moves his hand from Eddie's heart, but only long enough to tuck a lock of hair that's fallen across his eyes back behind his ear. Then he puts his hand back, fingers splayed, holding Eddie as tightly as if he is trying to keep him in one piece. He's working on intuition, here, on what he thinks Eddie needs, on what he would want if the situation were reversed.

He can feel that Eddie's control is stretched taught, close to snapping. And right now, Cisco thinks, what Eddie doesn't need is more slack. He needs to snap, to let go. So murmurs, voice quiet but certain: ]

So don't stop.

[ There is no volume of grief, no loudness or ugliness of it, Cisco thinks, that will scare him away. ]

Trust me. I got you. I'll get you out the other side of it, okay? I'm not gonna let you go. So just... let it go, baby. I'll hold on for you.

[When Cisco presses his hand against Eddie's chest, fingers splayed, right over his heart, it's a silent reminder of the trust they have in each other - both of them, in different ways, have trauma that has to do with their hearts. Right now, Cisco is reminding Eddie that despite the scar under Cisco's palm, he's alive, and Cisco is here protecting him, pressed against his back and holding him close.

A moment later, Cisco confirms it, his voice firm and calm as he says that Eddie shouldn't stop. That he should trust him, that he has him, that he won't let Eddie get lost in it, in the grief that feels like it's going to wash him away. Cisco tells him he should let go and Cisco will hold on for him and Eddie trembles almost uncontrollably for a moment before he speaks, his voice rough.]

I din't...I didn't even know Singh cared that much...or knew...and I just...I left so many people behind. I didn't get to...I didn't get to say good-bye...

[And that does it, it chokes his voice off, and he lets out another sob, curling tightly into a ball with Cisco pressed against his back, his hands coming up to cover his face. Palms pressed against his mouth, he lets out a wracking sob, because he didn't get to say good-bye. Not to Singh, not to his parents, not to his job or his apartment or his plants or his cat or his gym buddies or his coworkers or anything or anyone else.

He'd been alive and engaged and ready to face life head-on with hope in his heart, and then fifteen minutes later, he'd been dead.

Choking on his own emotion, Eddie keeps sobbing, deep gut-wrenching things that make his throat and eyes ache, make his stomach clench up with nausea.]

[ Cisco hadn't been sure, whether Eddie was going to let go and cry, or whether he was going to do what SIngh had done, for the remainder of that memory - do his best to fight off tears, to hold them back and then pretend that the impulse to cry had never even been there. Cisco and Singh had never spoken about what happened that day, but it had changed things between them, ever so slightly.

He thinks that maybe Eddie is going to shove it all down, to cling to his control and pretend he's not utterly devastated. And yet he needs to cry - Cisco can feel that so easily. So it comes as a kind of relief when Eddie sobs, curls forward tightly, and starts to weep. Cisco keeps his promise. He keeps holding on, even as Eddie shudders and draws in breaths so sharp they sound painful, and cries like Cisco has never seen him cry before.

It hurts all the worse for that - not just because he cares about Eddie, and not just because the situation is awful. But because it is comparatively rare for Eddie to cry at all, much less like this. Cisco stays pressed close to Eddie's back, holding him tightly, making gentle shushing and murmuring noises once more. He keeps a hand pressed over Eddie's heart around half the time, and the other half he reaches up to push Eddie's hair from his face when it falls loose, to stroke up and down his side in a rhythmic and soothing fashion. Occasionally , his wordless noises are punctuated by a quiet I know or a that it's.

And there's no way, of course, to keep himself from crying, too. But he stays focused on Eddie, blinking quickly so the tears spill from his eyes and down the side of his face. It's just hard, seeing someone so good in such an extraordinary amount of pain. Cisco wishes more than anything that he could give Eddie his goodbyes. This place had given him his life back, a chance for a future. But there were some hurts that it could not mend, and they clearly run deep. ]

Edited 2017-10-10 12:29 (UTC)

[It isn't easy for Eddie, any of this. To relinquish his control over himself, to allow Cisco to see him doing it and trust him not to think less of Eddie for it, to think him unmasculine. Part of Eddie is almost afraid of the grief, it feels like too much, like it will tear him apart, he feels helpless under the tidal wave of it, the intensity.

For a few long minutes, he is washed away under it, lost in it. He's barely aware of Cisco there, holding onto him, keeping his promise to hold him and get him through this, but on some level he's very aware of it. Knows somewhere deep in the core of him that he wouldn't be able to do this without Cisco, that all of Cisco's soft murmured words and Cisco's gentle hands pushing his hair back and holding him together, hand pressed over his scar, are keeping him from flying apart.

It seems to take forever for the raw sobs to work their way completely out of him, at least for tonight, leaving his throat sore and tight, his eyes hot and stinging, his body trembling with exertion, his head aching. It feels like forever before he's excised some of the grief and helplessness and loneliness, railed against the unfairness of his life and the end of it. And after he's done it, he's left lying quietly on his side, still breathing in deep shaky gasps, his eyes and head aching, his chest heaving a little as he tries to keep his breath, as exhausted as he would've been after running a marathon.]

I'm...I'm sorry...

[ Cisco keeps holding on, cheek pressed against Eddie's shoulder blade. As he hears Eddie's sobs starting to subside, he gradually loosens his grip on Eddie - not letting go, but giving him a little more room to breathe, by small increments. Cisco leaves his hand over Eddie's heart, feeling it very faintly beating away beneath Eddie's ribs (though maybe he's only imagining he can feel it, who knows).

His eyes have adjusted to the dimness of the bedroom, and he can only see a faint outline of Eddie's profile as he finally speaks, croaky and exhausted-sounding. Without hesitation, Cisco responds: ]

You got nothing to apologize for.

[ He props himself up on his elbow, so he can lean forward and kiss Eddie's cheek softly, then press his forehead to Eddie's temple, listening as he draws in those shuddery little breaths, an occasional residual sob still hitching his inhales. Cisco's voice is quiet as he says: ]

I'm gonna get you a washcloth and some water, okay? I'll be back in two seconds.

[ And then he is doing it, not going so quickly that he will embarrass Eddie, but still taking as little time as possible. It's only a few steps into the little bathroom attached to his bedroom, with its small nightlight. Cisco grabs a clean washcloth from the little cupboard, runs it under the tap with some cool water and wrings out the excess. He fills the little plastic cup that he keeps there with water and then returns with the both of them, coming over to the other side of the bed and climbing up close to Eddie, sitting cross-legged with his leg pressed up against Eddie's thigh. Cisco wants to keep touching him, to have that contact.

He holds out the water for Eddie, wiping at his own cheeks with the back of his other hand, brushing away the few tears there, too. ]

Thanks for trusting me.

[It takes a long time for the weight of the grief to subside, to be able to release the tension of pain built up in him, the way his body holds onto it physically rather than let it out. But it's coming out now, unwinding from him, releasing, and he closes his eyes for a moment, lies there shivering in the bed as Cisco keeps touching him, his chest, his hair.

And then, when he finally falls quiet after apologizing, Cisco says that he's got nothing to apologize for, that Cisco is going to get him a washcloth and some water. Eddie doesn't protest, just speaks soft and quiet and shaky.]

Thanks, babe. Seriously.

[While Cisco is out of the room, Eddie tries to get himself back together, to catch his breath, scrubs furiously at his eyes, which are hot and stinging, and holds his breath for a moment, swallows as hard as he can to shake out some of the tension in his dry throat. When Cisco comes back into the room, Eddie's sitting up against the headboard, shoulders bare and waiting for him. Cisco keeps touching him as he hands over the water, his knee pressed against Eddie's thigh, his eyes on him. It's only then that Eddie notices the fact Cisco is rubbing at his own cheeks, eyes red-rimmed, that Cisco was crying too.]

I think I trust you more than anyone, Cisco.

[Sipping at the water, Eddie makes a soft, hoarse noise of contentment as the cool liquid soothes his sore throat, and after a few moments he speaks, his voice quiet.]

Are you okay? You're crying too...

[ Cisco isn't surprised, when he sees that Eddie's tried to compose himself in the few seconds Cisco was gone. He didn't expect that radical vulnerability to last long. He's getting the sense more and more, these last few weeks they've been dating, that Eddie doesn't like being seen at anything less than his best. It's something Cisco imagines is pretty exhausting, but maybe he only thinks that way because it's so different from the way Cisco is, himself.

Regardless, he is going to take care of Eddie, even if Eddie puts up a front of being okay now and not needing care. Cisco smiles, just a tiny sliver of one: ]

I think that I trust you more than anyone, too.

[ It feels like a responsibility - but not the bad kind. The kind that makes Cisco want to be better, to be the best version of himself, for Eddie's sake. He keeps holding that damp cloth, but runs his free hand up and down the side of Eddie's thigh, soothing and mindless, feeling the exhausted trembling in his limbs. Neither of them are getting back to sleep tonight, he thinks. But that's alright. ]

Yeah, I'm okay. Promise.

[ He doesn't think there's any particular intent behind the question, but he's also definitely not going to let Eddie divert attention from himself by fussing over Cisco, when it had just been a sympathetic response - almost reflexive. After Eddie takes another long drink of the water, Cisco asks: ]

Can I wash your face?

[ It's something Eddie would be capable of on his own, of course, but... Cisco wants to do it for him. To care for him. ]

[Cisco's observation that Eddie doesn't like people to see him at anything less than his best is honestly spot on. And the truth is that it is exhausting, despite the fact that it's become such a habit now that he does it almost without thinking. Eddie doesn't like it when people see him weak and vulnerable, he wants the people around him, especially the ones who he cares about, to only get the best of him. There are parts of himself that Eddie is ashamed of, always has been, doesn't want to show off or subject people to.

Cisco deserves someone who's strong, attractive, and put-together, not a sobbing mess. It isn't that Eddie doesn't trust Cisco to still be attracted to him if he gives in and cries sometimes, but he certainly thinks Cisco deserves better than Eddie when he's like this. So when Cisco comes back with a cloth and glass of water, he's a bit more composed, even if he still feels fractured, a little broken, a little torn open. And Cisco's hand slides up and down the line of his thigh, soothing some of the trembling after-effects out of him, assuring him that he's alright.]

Okay. If you're sure...

[Eddie's voice trails off as Cisco deflects, draws the attention away from himself and back to Eddie, and he's about to try to change the subject when Cisco asks if he can wash his face. For a moment, Eddie's still, his eyes a little wide, but then he nods.]

If you want to. I mean. I can...you don't have to...

I want to.

[ He plucks the glass of water from Eddie's hands, setting it safely on the nightstand before he scoots a bit closer. Cisco brushes a stray lock of hair from Eddie's face, then leans in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. It's a quiet gesture, small and understated. Then he starts washing Eddie's face with the cool, damp washcloth. He is careful, pressing more gently when he is working near to Eddie's eyes. Cisco makes sure he doesn't miss a single spot, that he wipes all the traces of tears away.

All the while as he is doing this, Cisco murmurs: ]

You meant a lot to Captain Singh. And plenty of the other officers. He wasn't the only one who took it hard.

[ There was a reason Eddie had broken down about this, had cried harder than Cisco had ever seen him cry, and it seems like a bad idea to just move on without talking about it, a little bit. So Cisco is going to talk. ]

I... don't think I told you this before, but I went to the memorial service they had for you. I cried. Like... a lot.

[ It seems strangely long ago, now. So does coming here, seeing Eddie for the first time, just standing there healthy and alive like nothing had happened. ]

I'm sorry you had to lose so much. And- I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye. It's stupid, and unfair.

[ With that, Cisco finishes washing Eddie's face, sitting back and putting the damp cloth down so he can reach forward and hug Eddie, hold onto him, because the words are so small, so insufficient. ]

[Eddie's not really used to this, to someone else taking care of him in this particular way - he's used to empathy, to some extent, he's used to practical help, but this sort of gentle nurturing is something completely alien for him. He's never really been surrounded by the type of people who nurture, not his mother or father, any of his exes, besides Iris, and her nurturing had always come with the slightest undertone of gentle teasing, had never really been as earnest as Cisco is.

And Cisco is earnest, it's obvious that he means it when he takes the glass and pushes back Eddie's hair, gentle and kind, the affection and concern are so completely genuine that Eddie almost can't breathe as Cisco lifts the washcloth and starts cleaning his face. The coolness of the cloth feels good, wiping away his tears, absorbing the heat still in his face, taking the sting out of his eyelids and the delicate skin under his eyes. All the while, Cisco speaks, his voice just as careful and gentle as his hands, explaining that Eddie had meant a lot to Singh and the other officers, that he'd cried at Eddie's funeral.

For a moment, Eddie's throat feels tight, his chest hitching a bit, but he doesn't cry again. He just looks at Cisco's face, his eyes concerned and warm and genuine, and lifts a hand, hooking it at the back of Cisco's neck, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.]

I'm sorry too. I feel stupid, crying about it, because I can't do anything about it, you know? I can't change it. I can't stop it, I don't even...I don't know. I love what I have here, my job and my life and you. I don't know why I get so...so sad about it...

[Swallowing hard, he opens his arms as Cisco reaches out to hold onto him, squeezing back and burying his face into the crook of Cisco's neck.]

Thank you.

[It's soft, a rough little whisper.]

[ Cisco listens as Eddie speaks, reaching up to comb his fingers through Eddie's hair, a mindless and soothing gesture. He scrapes his nails gently over Eddie's scalp, massaging at the base of his skull, at his temples. He thinks for a few moments, before he finds the words he wants to say. His voice is a low murmur, unhurried, thoughtful. ]

People cry about things they can't change all the time. When it's something like this, crying's all you can do. So it's okay to do it. You don't need to hold it in, or hide it.

[ Easier said than done, perhaps, but he thinks maybe it's a sentiment Eddie could stand to hear a little more often. No one had been around, to tell it to Cisco. He'd had to realize all on his own that there was nothing wrong with him, for crying as often as he did. That he was just being honest about how he felt, and everyone else was lying, out of shame, and pride, and fear.

Cisco keeps on moving his hand in Eddie's hair while he hides his face, turning his head just enough to plant a small kiss at Eddie's temple. ]

I, um... read this quote somewhere that... grief's just all the love you have for someone that doesn't have anywhere to go anymore. You loved stuff about your life in Central City. You loved your job, and Jitters, and- and Iris, and Singh, and a ton of other people. That doesn't... diminish any of the love you have for your life here, okay? You're allowed to miss it. It's not an insult to what you got currently.

[ Cisco gives Eddie a brief, tight squeeze, and then pulls away once more, reaching for that glass of water from the nightstand and holding it out. ]

You should finish that.

[For a few moments, Eddie's simply silent, letting Cisco tend to him, a little overwhelmed with some complicated, vulnerable emotion as his boyfriend cleans his face, strokes his fingers back through Eddie's fine, slightly damp hair, scrapes blunt nails against his scalp, rubs at his temples, the base of his skull just above his neck. It's strange, because Eddie has done all those things for Cisco before, he knows the emotions he was feeling when he did them, and it's almost a little painful how hard it is to reconcile that someone else is feeling those things for him right now.

While Cisco talks, Eddie tries to listen and to take it to heart, to really believe what Cisco is telling him. But his thoughts go in so many different directions it's hard to really pin down what the truth is. How can he love his life back in Central City and this one at the same time, the same amount? It doesn't make sense. How can missing his life back there not be an insult to this one?

At least, if nothing else, he knows that his love for Iris has faded a lot over the past six months, that he feels a nostalgic fondness for her, thinks she's a good person, but she's not someone he's in love with anymore. When Eddie hears Cisco stumble over saying that Eddie loved Iris, he looks him in the eyes and offers a weak smile.]

I don't love Iris anymore, Cisco. I miss things from back home, and people, and I miss her, but I want what we have. Okay?

[Taking a shaky breath, he rubs at his eyes and then hugs Cisco back tightly, takes the glass of water he's offered, and after a few sips, he speaks, quietly.]

It just feels like there are so many...unfinished things. Things I wanted to say. I never got to tell people things, Singh never knew how much I looked up to him, my parents never knew how much I loved them despite our differences, I never got to tell Iris that it was okay if she got together with Barry after I was gone.

[ Leave it to Eddie, to be able to read so much in such a small hesitation, to guess that Cisco's shameful and unvoiced thoughts and to reassure him right away. It's something the two of them share, this fear of being loved less, of being merely tolerated while someone else was really, truly wanted. For Cisco, growing up, that someone had always been Dante. And once Barry had woken up from his coma, he had filled that same role, for Eddie.

So there is a part of him that, selfishly, secretly, is glad to hear Eddie say he doesn't love Iris anymore, even if that hadn't really been the point that Cisco was trying to make. He feels bad, for the little flutter of excitement and happiness that sparks in his stomach. But he can wrestle with his conscience another time. For now, he merely smiles a small smile, ducking his head forward. ]

Okay.

[ He listens as Eddie talks about all the business he has left unfinished. And Cisco thinks... a lot of people who die leave things unfinished. It's just that almost all the people who die don't end up here, aware of all that they left behind. Eddie's like one of those ghosts, in a way. Unable to entirely move on. ]

Do you think... hypothetically speaking, if it were possible to send a message, somehow... would you? Would it help? Like... a note in a multidimensional bottle, so you could say those goodbyes?

[ How would be a question for tomorrow; but if Eddie needs this, then Cisco will find a way. No matter how long it takes. After all, if there's one thing they have in this place, it's time. ]

[It's because of that shared experience of not wanting to be the person who means less to someone they love that Eddie recognizes the hesitation and what the reason for it is. It's because of that shared experience that he's quick to reassure Cisco that he's not second choice to Iris, that he's been over her for months, that the grass is greenest where you water it, and this is where he's chosen to focus that effort.

And it's because of that shared experience that Eddie knows the relief that comes after being assured of something like that. Being told that you are the most important person to someone who you love. He's glad to be able to give Cisco that reassurance, to soothe those worries, and he makes a mental note to say it more often. To make it clear more often that this is what he wants, that Cisco is what he wants, that he's in this for the long haul, no matter what he might miss back home.

When Cisco mentions the vague hypothetical possibility of a message going back home, Eddie brightens slightly, blinking.]

I mean...yeah, it would. It would mean a lot to me, to be able to tell people back home how I feel about them, to make sure they know how much they meant to me. I always tried to let them know but...but sometimes people don't realize it, or misread or doubt themselves and I just...

[Lifting his gaze a little, he meets Cisco's eyes.]

If it doesn't get in the way of any of your other projects, I would...really appreciate you looking into whether it would be possible.

[Then, impulsively, he leans in, catches the back of Cisco's neck, and kisses him.]

I will find a way to make it happen.

[ Logically, it's something he shouldn't make promises about. He doesn't know for certain that it will be possible, hasn't even begun looking into what would be necessary to make it happen. But he thinks back, to that experiment he'd done with his powers, with Taako. At one point, Cisco could have sworn he was not just in a dream, but really speaking to someone in another reality. If he could do that again, could find a way to use his powers to get a message back to the Earth, maybe he could give Eddie some of the peace and closure that he needs.

Even that sliver of a possibility is enough to hang hope on. So Cisco doesn't say he will try. He says he will. It might take a considerable amount of time, but if it's what Eddie wants, he isn't ever going to give up until he makes it happen. That's just how Cisco operates.

He kisses Eddie back, deep and slow. His hand comes up to cup the side of Eddie's face, thumb brushing along Eddie's cheekbone, feeling the faint rasp of his stubble. There's a very faint lingering taste of the tears he'd shed; Cisco holds him very gently and kisses and keeps kissing him. ]

[When Cisco says, with such certainty, that he'll find a way to make it happen, something in Eddie thrills, there's a little surge of excitement and gratitude that he can't contain. His expression goes bright and adoring, his eyes warm, his breath coming a little faster. Even if it doesn't work, even if it's impossible and Cisco can never do it, the fact that he promised, that he cares so much about something like letting Eddie just get a message home. Eddie can see how it might seem like such a small thing to anyone else, even to Cisco, but is such an incredibly big deal to Eddie.

The kiss is deep, the affection in it goes deeper than like or want, but it's too early for words like that, for anything beyond them. So Eddie puts that feeling into the kiss instead, lets all that adoration and longing into the kiss, his hand cupping Cisco's cheek, his fingers curled into the roots of Cisco's hair. There's no words for what he's feeling right now, the gratitude, the disbelief at someone being so willing to do something for him that's so important.

He keeps touching Cisco's face with his other hand, his fingers tracing over Cisco's cheekbone, the line of his jaw, the shape of his hairline, the shell of his ear. Everything about Cisco's face is wonderful to him, his brows and lashes and jaw and nose and mouth - oh his mouth. Opening his lips, Eddie kisses deeper, sliding his tongue into Cisco's mouth.]

Edited 2017-10-17 01:37 (UTC)

[ There would be time in the future for figuring out the logistics - all that matters right now is that Eddie believes him when he says he'll do it, that Eddie is grateful and shows it by kissing him in that urgent sweet way. Cisco can't think of any more compelling motivation than a kiss like that. He thinks that he would probably promise Eddie the moon, if he wanted it badly enough.

He opens his mouth softly for Eddie's tongue, settling in against him with a small noise of contentment. They spend a while like that, lost in one another, chasing away the darkness and the grief. When Cisco finally pulls away, his mouth a little swollen from contact. Smiling, he brushes the tip of his nose back and forth against Eddie's, a little affectionate gesture. ]

Now... I know it wasn't really that kinda nightmare, but what d'you say we go downstairs, whip a snack, and watch some truly brain-rotting TV?

[ He doesn't think he's going to be able to sleep again for a little while; particularly without knowing what it was that caused that dream in the first place. If it is his powers... he's going to have to find a way to stop that. He can't have his memories leaking out and making his boyfriend cry. He isn't going to accept that. ]

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