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Cisco had always been different in more ways than he could count, and bound and determined to hide as many of them as possible. There were few people he thought he could trust, that he thought might accept him unconditionally. It was easier, it was better, to keep quiet.
So he didn’t tell people about the visions he had, the days the nightmares were entirely too much, too real, as though he was living them. He didn’t know what caused them, exactly, just that they started in his freshman year of college, that between classes and trying to build a social life he there were moments of crushing clarity, an awareness of the world he just couldn’t put into words. It was overwhelming, it was terrifying, and Cisco had thought he was going crazy when they'd first begun.
The first time he told his siblings about it, Dante had made a joke and asked Cisco if he’d gotten into anything at a party. But he hadn’t, and Dante and Armando both had known it. They both agreed that this wasn’t something that could just happen without a cause. Something had changed, the problem was that nobody knew what, or why.
Cisco did his best to ignore it, really. He tried to tune it out, to ignore the glimpses of a future, of what felt like a past, a past life with people that he’d never met but knew like he knew nothing else . He focused on his classes and his grades, on the apps he’d begun to design for spare money and entertainment both, on anything but something that yet again, made him different.
His junior year, they got worse though. Stress made them worse, he found. His nights were a string of horrors like he’d never known. Dreams of death, and destruction. Of his death, or others lost forever. Of disasters and people who couldn’t possibly be human committing crimes that made his skin crawl, that made him want desperately to stop them all even when he knew they weren’t actually happening, that there was nothing to stop.
It had been a week since he’d slept more than an hour or two here and there, since he’d done more than nap between his nightmares. A week of waking up at three, after finally falling asleep at one. Of subsisting off of coffee and snacks from shops around campus, trying to avoid letting anyone figure him out and wishing he could just shut it all off.
It was the time of night when everything was too quiet, three thirty in the morning and sleepless at Stanford. Cisco had been staring at a laptop full of concepts and design plans trying to make everything make sense when he could hardly focus and his vision was swimming just a little. He’d been doing little more than staring for the past fifteen minutes, had been debating on retreating back to his dorm, on trying to sleep when it happened.
When she walked through the door, it was enough to make him feel as though he’d been hit by a truck. He was a little ungrounded, unmoored, caught up in the strange presence of this woman as her gaze passed across the cafeteria and she moved to order something and his gaze never left her.
She’d opened the door, the quiet bell had rung and her presence had washed over him like a physical warmth, like lightning on his skin and humming through his veins that stayed present as she leaned against the counter. She got her drink, picked up a pastry and then, seemingly without hesitation, approached Cisco. It made him tense, left him certain she’d caught him staring. “Can I help you?”
For a moment she just watched him, something in her gaze a little strange, oddly pensive as she watched him. He didn’t understand it at all. He didn’t know what he’d done, to make a stranger look at him like that, because that wasn’t the face of a woman irritated at him. It was like she was looking at him like she was trying to figure him out, too. As though she felt something like what h had when she’d entered the cafe.
“I’m sorry,” She said quietly, “You just. You look familiar. Like I should know you somewhere.” She explained, and her smile was soft and welcoming. “I guess you just caught me off guard. Caught my attention. Most people aren’t normally up, this time of night.”
“Chronic insomnia,” He said by way of explanation, “My head just doesn’t really stop for the most part. It’s normal for me at least.” Her gaze was still on him, unwavering, waiting for something. “What’re you doing up if we’re sharing?”
Her smile stayed on her features, warm and reassuring that asking wasn’t overstepping, “I’m-” There was a pause, a moment just longer than a breath, hardly noticeable but distinctly there. “Working on an assignment that’s kept me at odd hours. I figured I could use a bit of a break.” She sipped at her drink slowly. “Something told me this was the place to be.”
“Well hey,” He said dryly, “At least whatever vibe you had, has excellent taste in coffee.” Cisco offered the woman a half smile as he raised his own cup to her in a toast, unsure what part of that exactly was worth her quiet laugh. “To sleepless nights. The name’s Cisco.”
“Cindy.”
Cisco didn’t think, just reached out to take Cindy’s offered hand and the touch was strange. Brief, it was just a handshake but in that moment the rest of the world faded away for a moment, the same way it had when she’d entered the building but stronger. The buzzing beneath his skin and the haze that had clouded his mind both faded away and he took a breath as he dropped her hand, letting his jumbled thoughts untangle themselves. There was nothing that could ease how tired he was, but for what felt like the first time in years his mind was completely at peace.
It was impossible that one woman’s touch could make the rest of the world fade like that, but still Cisco found himself kicking at the free seat at his table, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Feel free to join me, if you want to?” He offered easily. “Only if you want, that is. Just don’t get too much late night company, you know? It’s kinda nice, to not be all on my own.”
Something about her smile was edging on fond, almost indulgent, but Cindy settled in and Cisco wondered if she’d felt it too. Not quite a shock, but something new. Something unique. For the first time in a long while, Cisco could safely say that he felt steadied, and the world had righted itself if only for a moment. For the first time in days, he could breathe easy.
She’d said this was the place to be, and suddenly it made a little more sense. Had she known that it might be like this?
“I can’t stay for long, but for a while, at least.” Cindy shifted in her seat, leaned towards him and set a hand on his arm, brief and light, but enough to drive home that it was her that made everything in him level out, just a little. “But if I’m going to stay, tell me about yourself. What are you working on, Cisco?”
And for the most part, Cisco guarded his ideas. He kept them close to his chest, in fear of someone trying to commandeer them, trying to take advantage of a moment of weakness. But Cindy, whoever she was felt safe. It was only natural to be open about it, just this once. So at her gentle prodding, he turned his laptop towards her, and began explaining.
He chalked it down to a dream. To too much caffeine and not enough sleep, to stress and nerves over exams. He told himself that it definitely, most certainly could have never happened. He’d never met a girl named Cindy, with those warm eyes, whose touch could quell the intensity of all that he felt, who could center him with just a hand on his skin.
She’d left that night without leaving a number, or a way to contact him, with a murmured, cryptic, ‘I’ve been gone far too long. I have to go now, before someone tries to find out where I went.’
Cisco had wanted to kiss her, that night. He’d wanted to pull her closer, to ask her not to leave. But he’d been too tired, and he’d known in a way that he couldn’t explain that she had to go. That to ask for something to remember her by, something to prove that she was real wasn’t a good idea.
Time passed and his apps took off, one by one as he got closer to graduating college. Some were games, some were more useful ones designed to make life just a little easier, but each one started off with an idea he couldn’t explain, a knowledge that somewhere there was something like this that would work. He courted investors at first, charmed them and wowed them with his intelligence and when asked what inspired him, always brushed them off, unable to say what exactly had driven him on.
By the time he’d turned twenty three, he was a multimillionaire, no longer reliant just on investors, but fully able to support and fund his own projects. He’d started in a small building, at fist with it all but he’d expanded again and again now. The technological empire he was building growing with every decision he made and the world around him at was his fingertips. It was a thrilling thing.
Sometimes it was a useful skill, being so certain of his future as though he could see the outcome of every choice he made.
The only problem was his free time, when it all came rushing back. When he wasn’t working, it was harder and harder to ignore the ache of something just beneath the surface. He couldn’t tune it out, brief glimpses of people he got when they touched him, the awareness of something all around him he couldn’t put a name to. There were moments when business meetings felt like a battle, when he saw a new face and new, unquestionably that a person was a threat.
And his dreams were still filled with lives he’d never lived, of people he’d never known, of deaths that had never come.
Sometimes, he saw Cindy. Never when she was at peace, and always when she was in danger. Adrenaline thrumming through her, through him, through them both as she let loose blasts of energy, as she traveled from one world to the next. He told himself it was a fantastic journey, a wonderful story that he could tell.
Maybe he could talk to someone about making it a game, making what he saw of her a story cooked up in the depths of his imagination. Travel the world as an explorer of the universe. No, a multiverse. Hunt criminals and dangerous creatures and aliens.
You could watch yourself die, your life be rewritten, you reality change and change even, where no one would ask your consent in how they did it. It would be a game that never ended, a game with no mercy from the universe.
It always started out well, he supposed. He’d just thought maybe it would never end well. Maybe, if he wrote the story, for once, it would end happily. He could make that happen, couldn’t he?
He reached for a computer and immediately began writing down the ideas as they came to him, the best platforms for it, the best way to approach it, the best ways to push something like this.
“Whatever you’re thinking is probably a bad idea,” The words came directly after a rush of- something. Heat as it washed over his skin, energy crackling through his body, a vibrant flash of light. But that was Cindy’s voice. And he turned, hands braced as though he could do- something, to stop her, anything. And she was there.
The jacket was different, her hair a shorter than the last time he’d seen her, but it was undeniably Cindy. And this time, Cisco knew without hesitation that this wasn’t a dream.
“What the fuck? How did you get in here?” He demanded, the question slightly more important than what was she doing here? Than where had she been.
“You make a girl get creative, when you’re about to make very bad decisions.” And unlike last time she wasn’t as relaxed. There was an edge to how she moved, something close to panic in her eyes and Cisco stood without thought, hands at his side and relaxed, palms facing away from her now. He wasn’t a threat, she had to know that.
“You’re real.” He said softly, in awe despite the lack of an answer he’d been given. “You’re really- You’re here.”
Her gaze softened a little as Cindy approached, and Cisco tried not to think about how the door behind her had been closed this entire time. How there was no way she could have opened the door, closed it, and gotten away from it before he’d turned around.
“I’m real,” Was what she said, and Cindy stilled less than a foot away from him. The years had changed them, he thought, he could see it in her eyes, could feel it in the energy between them, a connection that was there, all but tangible and bright between them and there was the sudden, fleeting thought that everything he’d dreamt lately had been more than that.
“How did you get in here?”
“You know how. You were just considering turning how into the next big hit.”
“You read my mind?” He asked, and found the thought wasn’t overly shocking, not really. Whatever it was between them, if she was implying that what he’d seen was for real, maybe that was how. Maybe he was reading her mind in his sleep, as laughable as it was.
“You’re not the only one that can tell when your business decisions are going to be- Exceptionally profitable.” Her gaze was knowing and fond and Cisco couldn’t stop the tension coiled in his spine, couldn’t stop how his hands began to shake. “You haven’t figured it out, have you?”
He’d stood as though his body knew the movements when she approached. How to fight back in ways people couldn’t imagine without a weapon in hand. Hands towards someone, that was a threat that was fueled by power beneath his skin, inside of him. And he didn’t know if he’d learned that from watching it in his dreams, or if it was something more, if it was instinct defined by what he was.
For a moment he couldn’t speak, caught up in- In visions. In memories. Not Cindy, but himself, opening portals and firing off blasts of energy. Goggles and gauntlets and a man in red at his side, the heat of the energy created by his speed overwhelming and familiar. A different speedster, a threat, and power and he’d been so much stronger, so much more. A multitude of possibilities, of universes and limitless powers in every one.
He blinked and came back to himself and he was sitting again, Cindy’s hand was at his shoulder, strong and pressing him back into the chair and grounding him. “You can’t get caught up in it,” She said softly. He stared up at her, struggling to hold her gaze under the weight of what he’d seen. “You focus too hard on the things past. On the way things could have been, and it gets harder, to come back to it all.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Cisco protested, but he didn’t draw away. He knew what she was referring to, at least. Knew it had everything to do with the state his head had been in for longer than he could remember. “I’m brilliant, but I’m not. Whatever you think I am.”
“And you’re so much more than you think you are.” Cindy said simply, “We are so much more than you could ever imagine.” She dropped her hand from him and Cisco reached up without thought, took her hand in his own and laced their fingers together.
“You know why my head’s like it is,” He confirmed quietly, “Why I see what I do?” Cindy nodded, just once, her gaze never leaving his. “The first time we met, you were doing what I’ve dreamed?”
“They weren’t just dreams,” Cindy said softly, “But you fight what you are, so hard. When you’re tired, when you’re asleep. When your guard drops-”
“Why do I always see you?” He asked, “It’s. Very rarely anyone else, when it happens.”
“We’re connected, Cisco. How I work. How you do, it’s like. You and I are on similar wavelengths. The same frequency. When I’m in danger, and my adrenaline kicks up like that- Something happens, between us.” She squeezed his hand, “I get the same kind of feedback from you on your bad days.”
“Your life’s a little more stressful than mine, I think.”
“Higher stakes stress.” She corrected, “God knows you stress enough.” The last thing Cisco expected was for her to lean forward, for her lips to brush his forehead, soft and light. “But our connection isn’t the only reason I came today, and you know it.”
“What happens, if I were to do something like that?” Cisco prompted, and almost immediately the world shifted, grew colder and she tensed as she pulled away.
“You run the risk of exposing people like us, for one thing. And well- Where I come from. If they found out I was the inspiration? It wouldn’t end well, for either of us.” There was something hollow and hurting in her voice, something pained. “Just to be safe.”
“I can do that. But it’s gotta be on one condition.” Cindy just raised a brow at that, the slightest of smiles playing on her features. “You have to promise me that this time, when you leave it won’t be years until I see you again. I don’t want to think I made all this up.” He trailed off for a moment, squeezing their linked hands. “And I want you to tell me everything you can. If this is really my life. It’s about time I understand.”
Cindy still didn’t come by all that often and every time she did, she was careful not to leave any kind of evidence she’d been there in the first place. It was a little painful, at times, but for the most part it was doable. They rarely left the office, his home, or his lab, depending on what he was doing, after all, and the truth was that Cisco was content just to be with her, to feel normal, even if they were anything but.
Even if he knew she wished that he would harness his skills, that he would train with her, if only just a little. She never pushed him to focus on his abilities, and he never had to focus on his inventions around her. All he had to do was be himself, and she was happy to see him. It was new for that reason alone and it was thrilling .
He was twenty four when he took over Star Labs, forcing Harrison Wells to stop his frankly underthought and underdeveloped project with a particle accelerator. He put a halt to all production, and instead turned it into his own headquarters, churning out projects and ideas, brainstorming and making sure everyone knew who he was.
He was Cisco Ramon, among the richest men alive, a brilliant inventor of all types of computer apps and software. And recently he’d begun backing his own line of textile based innovations, specialty clothing lines and binders that he’d wished he’d had when he was younger. In his kinder moments he backed kickstarters anonymously, encouraging kids to go out and try to make the world what they wanted it. He funded scholarships and programs throughout the country, intent on making sure that less people had to struggle like he had.
And maybe, just maybe he wasn’t entirely human. That had never been a problem until he wasn’t the only one in Central City like that.
Iris and Wally West had walked into his life and it was terrifying. Wally had superspeed, Wally needed help so that he could fight crime and Cisco knew how this would end.
He had to stay away from Speedsters. Speedsters were dangerous, they had kind eyes and easy smiles, they were the people you trusted most and the ones who could kill you before you could even blink.
The thought was a mantra, really. He wanted them out of his lab, out of his building, out of his city if he was being honest. They could go pal around with the Black Canary in Star City, for all he cared. They could have fun being heroes with her, he just needed her gone.
But they’d been persistent, they’d spent three weeks trying to convince him, and in the end, Cisco had caved just to get rid of them. His stress levels were through the roof, though, because he’d made this suit before. He’d made it before and it had been for firemen first and then there’d been a man with warm eyes and an easy smile, a laugh that had been contagious and Cisco had known what it was the suit was meant for it.
The fabric was tailored just so, it would be bulletproof, it would be frictionless, Wally West would be safe for a time, at least, though Cisco knew that given long enough to suit would wear down, it would need repairs and they would be back. Of course they’d be back. He couldn’t live his life in peace.
But it would get rid of them. He wouldn’t have to look at them and think that he knew them, he knew their laughs and how they looked when tragedy struck. He knew what Iris West binge watched when avoiding things that stressed her out, he knew Wally’s favorite games, and the foods that both of them liked. He knew them and the only way to avoid that was to get rid of the completely.
Still he worked harder on his designs for them than he had for anyone else. The schematics for Wally’s suit were more extensive than anything he’d made in a long time. It was a struggle, and he’d nearly given himself a heart attack, thinking of the Speedsters of his nightmares, of the people who’d killed him and threatened him, who wanted him dead.
“If you go grey before the age of thirty I’m never letting you live it down.” Cisco didn’t look up at Cindy’s voice, though he did relax a little when warm hands settled at his shoulders, rubbing gently, even as he stayed focused on the task at hand, on trying to ensure the suit would last without needing repairs from him. “What’s got you working so hard?”
“If I go grey before the age of thirty, I’m dying my hair and you’ll never know.” Cisco said without missing a beat, not looking up from the designs. “And I think I’m helping create my worst nightmare.”
Cindy leaned over to look it over and Cisco frowned when one of her hands left his body to touch the design. “A speedster,” She said softly, knowing as always. “You’ve met one?”
“Too many,” Cisco grumbled, one hand coming to cover his heart before he could catch himself. “Even one it’s- It’s too many. They’re dangerous.”
“They’re harmless,” Cindy disagreed, “Insignificant, for the most part. Fun to mess with. Annoying, otherwise.” She trailed off, “If you tried to train your powers…”
“That’s dangerous too,” Cisco said softly, “I just want peace Cindy. That’s all I want. None of- I don’t want to be a part of all of this.”
“And yet, you’ve never complained about me.”
“Only because you’re better than everyone else.” Careful, Cisco turned his chair around to look at Cindy, just to drink in the sight of her, to ground himself in her presence. She was still here. He was safe still. “What are you doing here? I know I wasn’t bad enough off to scare you.”
“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted to see you? It’s been too long.” Cindy smiled and Cisco found himself returning it on instinct. He’d missed her too, even if the words wouldn’t quite come.
“It’s been a week.” He pointed out, but there was no pretending there wasn’t truth to her words. He looked her over slowly, instinctively checking to make sure she hadn’t been hurt since he’d seen her last, when he knew how dangerous her work was.
“You missed me too.”
“I always miss you.” With Cindy alone, he could have this, after all. Only with her near him, was there peace, there was no need to keep his walls up. Only around her could he be himself, could he remember who Cisco Ramon really was.
“All these girls around,” Cindy teased warmly, “And that’s how you feel? I’m flattered.”
Cisco could only shrug, “They’re expected,” Was what he said, “And they’re uhh- fun. They’re just. They’re not-” He broke off, and his hands settled briefly at her waist.
“I swear to God, if you say they aren’t me…”
“Well they aren’t,” And despite the truth of the words, Cisco laughed quietly. They’d never put a word to what they were, the nameless connection to each other, the occasional kiss, soft and chaste and right in the way that nothing else was. There was no commitment there- They just were better together. “It’s just easier with you. Everything is easier with you here.”
“You make it sound like you want me to stay.”
“If I thought you could,” Cisco shook his head at himself, his smile soft and self-depreciating. She’d told him so little of why she couldn’t, but he knew what she did was important. He knew he could never ask it of her. “But this is good. We’re good.”
Her lips brushed his forehead and Cisco could only hum in response, one hand running up her back almost thoughtlessly. She could stay the night. She could stay forever. It would never be enough.
“You’re dangerous,” Cindy murmured, and then she leaned in, and her lips brushed his, soft and fleeting, the touch as natural as anything else. It took his breath away, but it felt right, as easy as being with her always was. “You’re going to make me forget all my good sense.”
“Funny. You don’t sound like you’re complaining.”
“Maybe I’m just hoping that you’ll make it worth my while.” Cindy teased, and her smirk was warm, her touch light on his skin. Cisco caught her gaze and knew without asking that like every time before, this wouldn’t change anything. At the end of the night, Cindy would still have to go home, and Cisco would stay here. He wouldn’t change his life further.
But it would change everything, as well. They belonged together, truly and completely and had since the moment they’d met. They complemented each other. Cindy made his world make sense, and Cisco liked to think that he did the same for her,. Maybe nothing would change in the long run, and their paths would meet time and time again, without ever truly letting them be together.
He was still going to hold onto her as long as he could.
Time passed and Cindy visited more frequently as they grew closer and closer. She’d never called him her boyfriend, he’d never called her his girlfriend, there was no demand of exclusivity. But he had mentioned her to Dante and Armando as ‘a girl he liked’ even if they were the only two that knew about her. He focused on his technology and as invention after invention took off, as his products kept selling, Cisco found himself officially the richest man in America, famous in ways he’d never expected.
He tried not to let it get to his head -his brothers, his parents were good at keeping him grounded- tried to focus on the fact that he was a self made billionaire. That he’d clawed his way to the top. Still, he was more and more abrasive at times, at least when it came to strangers, he was closed off, he trusted no one that hadn’t earned it because he knew what it was to be used still.
He had a good life, and comfort, and everything he’d ever wanted and a not-girlfriend who he saw at least once a week and that was enough.
And then the Wests had come back again, and they’d ruined everything. They’d brought someone with them, someone who should have never entered his life again.
No, that was wrong. That was wrong he’d never met him before, this man had never entered his life and yet.
He knew about Dante. He knew about Dante in the way that no one ever should have. For the first time, Cisco wished he would have listened to Cindy, because he wanted to run, he wanted to put as much distance between him and Barry as possible and an intradimensional breech seemed like a good way to do that.
He knew this man in the same way he had Wally and Iris. He knew this man, the speedster in red, a partner and a friend, who’d been dangerous, technically speaking, but was a friend. A brother. He could have ruined everything, but he hadn’t at least in the past.
Until he’d appeared in Cisco’s office,in a red suit that Cisco remembered making. Cisco’s best friend, his worst nightmare. Cisco had been edging on a panic attack since the moment Wally had been dragged into the room and he’d been hiding it the best he could, with astronomical levels snark and sarcasm to mask his terror.
It was worse, somehow, then Wally and Barry went out alone and Barry came back with yet another stranger, a cop this time, carrying Wally’s broken body in their arms.
He knew what would happen now. Knew with the kind of clarity that made his hands shake and settled in his bones. Barry Allen would go back in time. Barry Allen would fix everything. And Cisco would lose it all again.
He should have never helped the Wests. He should have run, the minute Barry Allen entered his lab. Nothing good ever came of being a hero.
He’d given up keeping his office his safe space, so instead Cisco left it all behind. He left his office, called a private driver instead and made his way home. If Barry made the decision that Cisco knew, instinctively that he would, it didn’t matter where Cisco was.
His home at least was quiet. It was safe, peaceful. He stepped inside and mere moments later there was a cat winding it’s way between his legs, purring and keeping Cisco grounded in the moment. He bent over, scooped Charlotte up and made his way to his living room, with the cat cradled into him. The entire house itself was a little extravagant sure, but it was comfortable, aside from it all. It was his.
Barry was going to go back in time. Barry was going to fix time. And they were all going to let him, consequences be damned.
“Cindy,” He called, for the first time truly focusing on the breadth of his powers, the awareness of the universe around him, worlds as they overlapped. He focused on the memory of how she felt, the connection that bound them together, familiar and strong, after years of what they were. “Cindy, I need to talk to you.”
He found her amidst it all. Found her on another earth, dead in the middle of a hunt, all fine tuned focus that he could almost feel falling away when he called out to her. He’d never mastered how to vibe in any capacity, but it was enough to let her know he needed her. Moments later, she was in the living room, she was right there, her hands steady in his own as he shook to pieces and explained things the best he could.
“Speedsters,” Cindy said softly when he’d finished. “Mostly harmless. But annoying as hell.” Her hands were warm, her touch steadying as she settled onto the couch next to him, their bodies close enough together that he didn’t lose himself again. “Do you want to stop him? I can do that.”
“It feels- Wrong, to. I have a history with him,” Cisco admitted, “I can feel it, in my bones. Right here.” He tapped a hand over his chest. “It was his choice to do this. It feels wrong. Stopping it now.”
“But then you lose everything.” Realization dawned then, and her grip on his hand tightened. “We lose everything.”
“I lose you.” And it was something Cisco could never admit to to anyone else. He’d lose his empire. The wealth he’d worked to amass. His parents would no longer have the home they’d deserved his entire life, his siblings would no longer have the comfort to live how they wanted, without concern. And Cisco would have them all in every reality. He could live without his money, he would always have his family. But he’d lose her. “I lose everything that matters.”
“There’s a chance,” Cindy said quietly, “A chance you’ll remember. Not completely, but enough. Maybe. Like you have been already.” Cisco leaned his weight into her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead, just breathing her in as he held Cindy too tightly. “There’s a chance that I will, too.”
“If you remember me,” Cisco said quietly, “Will you come for me? We could find each other, again.”
“As long as I remember you,” Cindy murmured, “I will always find you, Cisco Ramon.” It was only right, to kiss her then, soft and sweet and gentle, to savor the moment, the closeness of her against him. He’d already committed all that she was to memory, but now he wanted to do it all over again, as if somehow, that could help keep him from losing her completely.
“You and me. Whatever it takes, I’ll find you again. We’ll see each other again,” He vowed, his voice low and quiet, wishing that he could promise it for real. “And maybe this time, we’ll be able to stay together for real.”
Cisco didn’t tell the others that he remembered Flashpoint. Dante died and Armando was lost to him, distant and trying to figure out life on his own and Cisco remembered a time when it had been the three of them above all else. But the others had agreed, it was best to not know how life had been different, there. And Cisco had agreed because they were all better off not knowing.
But he remembered everything, like glimpses of a life that could have been through the fog. His family, friends he’d had. Cindy, as hard to hold onto in his mind’s eye as smoke itself.
She’d changed him, he knew. Knew she was what had led him to know more about his powers. She was the reason he’d begun to build the gauntlets, why he wanted to push his abilities in ways she’d only told him about.
Because with them, he could open breaches. He searched for her throughout the multiverse, chasing echoes of a past that no longer existed, trying to focus on her present now, the life that she had in this reality.
He failed every time, it was like chasing a ghost. She was impossible to find.
It seemed only fate that it was her, who found him. It was Cindy, who found the lab, armed and ready to fight and the moment Cisco saw her on the video feed it was like seeing every moment with her over again. He knew her. He’d know her in any timeline, on any Earth in any reality.
The fact that she was there to kill HR, that she shot him on sight hardly registered to Cisco, because she was there, she was alive, her presence as familiar and awing as it had ever been.
He still put himself between her and Caitlin, though, unsure of where she stood, if she could remember him, if she’d recognize him like this, instead.
“You can vibe?” There was anticipation in her voice, something that edged on honest happiness, pride, and when their eyes locked Cisco knew that she knew too. She had to remember him, to look at him like this.. “Oh, I like it.”
He’d have a lot to explain, when this was done and over with. She would too. They’d need to catch up properly again.
“Well y’know. Still working on it, but I learned from the best.” He edged closer, never dropping his gaze. “Could probably use a refresher course, though. A lesson from the best.”
“Cisco,” Was all she said, her hands dropping, her gun holstered at her side. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s my lab. My Earth.” He defended himself, well aware of Wally in the doorway, of Caitlin and HR both gaping at them. None of them would know what was happening, and he felt just a little bad about hiding her from them. “That should definitely be my question. I could ask you the same.”
“I have the same job.” She said simply, moving closer. “You know what I do. That hasn’t changed.” She paused for a beat, “This place looked different, last time.” Cisco shrugged and she smiled up at him, eyes warm and the connection between them as familiar as ever.
“Not my design choice, this time around,” He said quietly, offering her his hand. “Do you remember?”
“Enough,” She agreed, tucking her hand into his own. It felt like it always had, energy thrumming through him, peace settling over him in waves. “You’re dangerous, Cisco Ramon.” She scolded, voice low but eyes bright with the old joke. “You’re going to make me forget all my good sense, asking me to not do my job.”
Cisco chanced a glance back at the others, cheeks flushing at how Caitlin was staring at him, everything in her expression clearly confused about how she hadn’t known about Cindy. Okay, so he had a lot of talking to do with both of them, then. But as much as he loved her, his friend didn't matter in that moment, and his attention returned to Cindy.
“Funny,” He shifted closer, his fingers brushed her waist and the world felt like it had boiled down to just them. “You don’t sound like you’re complaining.”
“Maybe I’m just-” It was cheating, probably. To skip to the good part, to draw Cindy in and kiss her, soft and gentle, as they’d done a hundred times before. To sink into it, as though they had the last time, as if it was the last they’d ever see each other again, as if it was all they'd have to remember each other by.
“I’ll make it worth your while.” He promised when he could finally make himself pull away. “However you want me to. Just. Just stay, this time. At least. Stay for just a little while.”
“I think I can manage that.” Her smile made his chest ache, made everything he’d felt for her once rush back, clearer than it had ever been before. “We could get coffee, again. If you want. Start how we did, last time around. It'll just”
“It’ll end differently, this time around.” Cisco agreed quietly, their fingers twined together as he held her closer. “I won’t lose you again.”