Episode Pieces
Nov. 15th, 2016 04:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisismadfreaky
"I can't believe you're doing this to me." The edge in Caitlin's voice is sharp, harsh and as judgmental as could be. "I'm one of you. I'm part of this team."
Barry looks disappointed as he shakes his head and points out, "You didn't leave us a choice, Caitlin."
"We're doing what's best for you," Iris says, voice clipped and angry, but the concern shines in her eyes regardless.
HR and Joe are silent in the back, looking on with some mix of shock and disbelief and Cisco is suspiciously quiet. As the rest of the team turns to walk away, Barry lightly claps a hand on Cisco's shoulder, "Come on, buddy." he says quietly, trying to pull his friend with him.
Cisco's gaze lingers on Caitlin, but he turns to look at Barry as he answers him, "Go ahead. I'll catch up with you in a minute." He nods a little, a little double-confirmation that it's okay for Barry to go.
Barry hesitates, but nods a little, "All right." and turns to leave.
Cisco slowly turns back toward the cell. The cell they'd had to put his best friend in. Looking at her in there is just...painful. She shouldn't be there, it never should have turned out like this. His chest tightens, looking at her through the glass, reduced to the same fate as the all the evil metas they'd taken down and locked away before.
"Don't give me that look, Cisco." Caitlin snaps at him, "You're just as much at fault for this as the rest of them." There's something cold and harsh in her voice that makes Cisco's chest ache.
"You think I wanted this?" He looks crushed at the idea of it as he moves closer to the cell. "You wouldn't listen...you completely lost it, Cait. It's not safe."
"Oh, just say it." She shakes her head. "You're not safe, Caitlin."
Cisco's gaze drops, hands shoved in his pockets and he shakes his head as he slowly looks up at her again. "I don't believe that. I really don't. I think it's something about how your powers work. I think it's changing you."
"Right." She tuts and shakes her head, moving around the cage they'd thrown her in as she talks. "And you think if I just give you time, you can stop it, right?"
He shrugs a little, "I don't know, maybe. I'd like to try."
"You know," her voice is lighter now, casual, like she isn't trapped in an impenetrable cube in a meta jail. "I thought you, of all people, would be able to understand. The way it feels when you use your powers. That rush you get. All that power. Control. It's intoxicating, isn't it?" She tips her head to one side. "You do know what I'm talking about, don't you, Cisco?"
He bites the inside of his cheek and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. But--"
"Then you realize why I can't just stop, right? I've sat back and watched everything I love burn to the ground, Cisco. But I can take control of my life again."
"Not like this, Caitlin! Not by--" He looks away and sharply back toward her. "Not by becoming Killer Frost, okay? You're not her. You're better than that. We can find a way around this, okay, you just have to let us help you."
"Maybe I don't WANT YOUR HELP!" She yells, eyes burning bright and white, hands slamming on the glass, which is covered with a thin layer of ice for a short moment before it dissipates.
Cisco jumps as her hands connect with the glass, and if she's paying attention, she can see the tears making his eyes shine brighter than usual as he whispers, "I'm sorry, Caitlin... I'm so sorry." He shakes his head and turns on his heel, walking out of the pipeline as quickly as his feet would carry him.
He was asleep when he got the call. Completely unsuspecting as he fumbles for the phone, confused when he sees his Dad's number on the screen. He rarely calls, and it's never at-- what time is it? 2:37am. Why is he--
"Hello?" His voice is thick with sleep, tone letting every ounce of his confusion seep out.
"Francisco."
The shake in his father's voice has him more alert than any alarm ever could do any justice at. Cisco sits up on the edge of the bed, "Dad?"
"Es tu hermano."
There's something awfully cryptic about those words that makes Cisco's stomach lurch and he roughly pushes his hair out of his face. "Dad, what's wrong? What happened?"
"There was an accident."
His heart is pounding in his ears and the world is spinning. He can barely hear his dad's voice on the other end of the phone.
"It was a drunk driver."
Tears have already sprung to his eyes because he's pretty sure he knows the answer to the question he's about to ask, but he has to ask. He has to be sure. "But-- but he's okay. He's gonna be fine, right?" The words come rapid-fire as his breaths quicken. "Dad, he's gonna be fine, right?"
"Mijo. Mijo..."
"No..." He's shaking his head, trying to hold his composure. "No, Dad--"
"You need to come to the hospital." The emotion in his father's voice is plain and it's killing him inside. "Make it fast."
The line clicks dead and Cisco's phone falls to the floor with a thud as he brings his hands up to press against his eyes. There were a million things running through his mind, and it's hard to breathe, but somewhere in the cloud of it all, he realizes he needs to go. Right now. Before he doesn't have a chance. So, he reaches over the edge of the bed and picks up his phone, hitting the first person on his speed dial.
He's glad there's an answer on the second ring, and doesn't give her a chance to speak before he does. "Ca-Caitlin? Can you take me to the hospital?"
*****
The days following weren't easy. The wake, the funeral, it was almost more than he could handle, but somehow Cisco managed to get through it all. He was sitting in the family room in his childhood home after it was over, barely much more than a heap on the couch, tear-tracks stained on his cheeks.
Caitlin sat beside him, her fingers wrapped around his. She's been his rock through all of it, and he's glad she's still here. She doesn't say anything, but she smiles softly at him and squeezes his fingers in her hand.
Other people--family members, freinds, people Dante had worked with--all milled about the room, and spread across the rest of the first floor of the house, but Cisco just couldn't bother to socialize. He didn't feel up to it at all. The memory shares. The past tense. He couldn't handle it. And apparently, his father saw fit to point it out. He walks over and rests a hand on his son's shoulder, "Why don't you come in the kitchen with the rest of the family?"
He shakes his head, a nearly imperceiptible action, but doesn't speak. Instead, he just stares straight ahead into the middle distance.
"Francisco." His voice has a sharper edge to it this time, not a request, but a command.
"I don't want to, Dad. I--" He sighs and shoves a hand through his hair. "I just...I wanna stay in here, okay? Please."
"Come be with your family, son." It's a bit softer than the command of his name seconds ago, but still has a distinct no-nonsense quality about it. This isn't up for discussion. "We're worried about you. And we need each other, now...more than ever."
A laughs bubbles out of his mouth at those words, and it feels so out of place, but he couldn't have stopped it if he tried. "You-- you're kidding, right?" He untangles his fingers from Caitlin's and turns to stare up at his father, incredulous. "You're worried about me? Need me?" Another laugh, more like a scoff this time as he shakes his head, getting to his feet.
"Cisco..." Caitlin pleads at his side, trying to catch his hand in hers, but he pulls away.
"No, Caitlin," He shakes his head, "No, he doesn't get to do this." he spins back to face his father. "You don't get to spend my entire life pretending like nothing I did mattered, like I didn't matter and then expect me to be there for you when you're grieving the loss of your golden child!" His words are loud echoes in the sudden silence of the house. "You don't get to pick and choose when it's convenient for you to care! You either do or you don't and you made that perfectly clear years ago. So go. Be with everyone else. But you don't get to take this away from me. This is my grief and I'll go through it when and how and where I want to. And right now that doesn't include being in the kitchen with you and Mom. Because I'd rather be around people I know care."
The silence that's fallen over the room is almost defeaning. The look on Mr. Ramon's face is carefully static, his voice steady when he speaks. "Do you think this is what your brother would want, Francisco?"
"No," Cisco shakes his head, "I know he wouldn't. He, much like everyone else in this family, never appreciated how deeply and loudly I feel, but it doesn't matter because he's gone." Whatever adrenalline had been fueling him before seems to have dissapated, causing his voice to falter on that last word. Tears spring to his eyes as a hand covers his mouth. "He's gone." he echoes his own words in a whisper and sinks back down to the couch, where Caitlin is looking very concerned and is waiting to wrap her arms around him as he collapses against her shoulder.
*****
Cisco hasn't been back to his parents' since the spectacle he'd made after the funeral. He didn't visit much anyway, so no much changed in the aftermath of it all, but he still felt horrible for it. Not the time. Not the place. But was there ever a time or place for things like that?
He's spent weeks quietly to himself, with Caitlin being the only person able to get through to him at all and only for small bursts. He's spending another of a countless number of late nights in the workshop at STAR Labs, tinkering and distracting himself when Barry walks in. "Hey, buddy."
He glances up over his shoulder and offers a little wave to his friend. "Hey."
"Staying late again?" Barry asks, leaning against the table near him.
Cisco shrugs silently, turning back to his project. He works quietly for several long minutes before Barry breaks the silence again.
"Look, Cisco...I know you're hurting and believe me, nobody understands that pain better than I do, but..." Cisco pauses what he's doing and slowly turns to look at Barry as he continues, "I'm worried about you, man."
"Everybody's worried." He shakes his head. "And concerned. And sorry. God," He looks to the ceiling and shakes his head again. "Everybody's so sorry and I'm sick of it. What does sorry solve? It not their fault and it doesn't make me feel better. It doesn't change anything." And maybe he's spent the last couple of weeks in a daze of some kind, but it's almost like a light clicks on in his head as he levels his gaze on Barry.
"Cisco..." Barry can see where this is going, just with the way Cisco's eyes light up.
"But you can." He spins the chair around to face the speedster. "Barry, you can change it. You can bring him back. You could save him."
His face falls because yeah, yeah, he could, it's possible, but there's no way he can do it. Go through with something like that. "Cisco, you know we can't...we can't do that."
"No," He shakes his head furiously, "no, don't. Don't. Tell me no. Don't tell me you can't. I don't care about the timeline, or fixed points or whatever, Barry, you can go back, you can save him."
Barry watches as Cisco gets to his feet, and he meets him half way, resting his hands on his friends' shoulders. "Cisco, listen...I would love to be able to do that for you, but you know I can't. The ripple effects could be huge, and the last time we made a huge change to the timeline, you almost di--"
"I don't care, Barry!" He twists out of his brip and steps back, staring at his friend. "I thought you, of all people, would understand. Who wouldn't, Barry? Who on the planet wouldn't go back and change something like this if they could? And you can, Barry, you can fix this, so why won't you?" It doesn't matter that Cisco knows every reason why he won't back down on this, the pain, the grief, they're too much and they're clouding his rational thought. "....Please...Barry, please..."
"I can't, buddy," he says softly, moving forward to wrap his arms around Cisco, who leans into him, almost boneless as he buries his face against Barry's shoulder, letting out a heart-wrenching sob as he clings to his friend tightly. "I'm so sorry." He whispers quietly.
