Work Text:
Caitlin drew her knees up to her chest, toying with the ripped black ribbon pinned to her chest. She hadn’t really moved from the couch much the past few days, although she knew that soon she’d have to. She couldn’t rely on Cisco and on the West family for everything, could she?
Last time she’d done this, she’d practically been a kid, still confused and still hoping that her father would walk through the door, alive and healed and happy. Her aunt brought her some candy, and Caitlin had nibbled on it while watching her family move to embrace her mother.
She hadn’t sat shiva for Ronnie, not the first time he died-they were engaged, not married, and while Caitlin knew that nobody would mind, it still didn’t feel right to her, like she was admitting to herself and to the world that he was really dead. Really gone. (There was no body, they said that he had been vaporized instantly by the blast. That he hadn’t felt any pain, that it had been quick. They all said so many things.)
Somebody knocked on the door, and she wondered who it was this time-Cisco or Barry or Joe or Clarissa Stein. Not Iris, and she respected that. And if it was Joe, he would leave soon, still numb with grief, headed home to keep his daughter company.
The door creaked open, which meant that either Barry had vibrated it or Cisco had used his key, which she had given to him while drunk one night and then never took back, telling him that he should probably keep ahold of it ‘just in case.’ She hadn’t really known what that case would be at the time, but she didn’t regret it now. Not in the slightest.
“Hey, Cait,” Cisco called, backing into the house, arms wrapped around a giant container of soup. “Mama helped me make you even more soup, so if you were hoping for something different you’re out of luck.” He was failing pretty hard at being cheerful, but at least he was here. “I did bring some candy, though. Red Vines and your favorite”-he paused for dramatic effect-“watermelon gummies!”
He set the stuff down in the kitchen, loudly talking to himself the whole time, before sitting down next to Caitlin on the couch. She wordlessly leaned against him, tucking her face into his shoulder. “I look terrible, don’t I?”
“I mean, you could probably use a shower,” Cisco sighed, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her shoulders. “I know you can’t take a hot one, but… Cold water is fine, right? Do you want my help?”
Caitlin shook her head. “I don’t-I can’t.”
Cisco nodded. “I get it. Do you want to watch a movie or something? Harry Potter? Star Wars? Another old favorite?”
She shook her head again, clinging to him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re having trouble too,” she sniffled, trying not to cry. Caitlin doubted that there were any tears coming considering that she had pretty much cried herself out today, but she’d been proven wrong about that before. “I know you have better things to do than take care of me.”
“It’s not taking care of you,” Cisco said indignantly, before pausing and frowning a little. “Actually, it totally is, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. It’s what’s supposed to happen. Ronnie was my friend too, but-but helping you is helping me, in a way. ‘Cause you’re my best friend, and I want to help you, and…” He trailed off and shook his head. “I dunno how to explain it. It’s just… Nice to help someone who feels the same way I do.”
Caitlin opened her arms wider, turning on the couch so that she was facing Cisco. “C’mere.”
He gladly leaned into her, and they clung to each other on the couch. “The soup’s good,” Cisco offered. “I tried it. And it’s not even partially storebought stuff I was bringing this time-Mama insisted on making the whole thing herself once she found out that I was bringing all of it to you instead of making it all for myself. She said to tell you she’s sorry for your loss.”
“How does she remember me?” Caitlin asked, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “I only met her once.”
“She’s got a great memory,” Cisco said with a shrug. “Although she did want to know who you’d lost-I’m pretty sure she thought we were, y’know, dating.” He smiled a little painfully, a little too strained to be real. “After the party, she called me and-well, I’ll tell you the whole story another time, okay? I promise. Right now you need to eat-have you even taken a bite of the stuff I’ve brought you?”
“I had… Some bites,” Caitlin said evasively. “A few.”
“I worked hard on those,” Cisco said indignantly. “Come with me, I’m going to make sure you eat. I don’t want anybody starving to death on my watch, okay? I know you’re hurting, I’m hurting too, we-we all are, but… You have to stay alive, Caitlin. You have to stay strong, okay? I know it’s hard, and if you ever want to talk then I’m right here and I won’t ever leave but-”
“You’re rambling,” Caitlin interjected gently. “I’m sorry, I’m sure the soup is great and I r-really appreciate it, but-but I don’t know if I can. I just-I don’t feel like doing anything right now.”
“I get it.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Trust me, I really, really get it. I was there the first time, remember?”
Caitlin swallowed. She didn’t really have the heart to tell him that things were so much more different this time. Before, there had been Wells-Thawne-there had been Barry to keep alive, there had been press to deal with. There had been distractions. And before, before there hadn’t been a city in ruins, a body count in the hundreds, not one but two dead friends…
The dam broke and she burst into tears, not for the first time that day. Cisco pulled her into a tighter hug and rocked her a little bit in his arms. Caitlin felt something damp on top of her head, and she knew that Cisco was crying too. They held each other for a long time until Caitlin laughed a little, the sound wet and thick. “We’re both a little fucked up, huh?”
Cisco mock-gasped, leaning back with wide eyes that were still glossy with tears. “Why, Dr. Snow! I have never heard such language from the mouth of-” She hugged him even tighter, and Cisco fell silent. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to deal with things, I just…”
“I get it. I really do. I get it.”
“Thank you,” Cisco said softly.
“Thank you,” Caitlin replied, still crying a little. “For being here for me. I know it’s weird, and I know you’re not used to any of this and I know Ronnie was your friend to, I know, I know, I know-”
“‘S alright,” Cisco promised. “I swear. So what if I don’t really get all of this? I’m Catholic, not an asshole.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve and smiled at Caitlin, eyes watery. “Trust me, everything’s going to be okay.”
“Do you want to spend the night?” Caitlin asked softly. “I-I’m going to need some help tomorrow, I think. I barely managed to get all of the mirrors covered, and I want to light some more candles for the last night.”
“Of course,” Cisco said immediately. It’d be good for him, too, that much Cisco knew. He may have been exhausted, but he couldn’t just leave his friend, could he? It was… Cathartic, almost, to help Caitlin. It was like helping Ronnie. He may not have known that much about sitting shiva outside of what he had been told by Caitlin and what he had found online, but it seemed nice. “Do you want my help taking all of the cloth down tomorrow, or just want me to make sure you eat, or…?”
“Everything, really,” Caitlin sighed, “but I can probably take all of the mirror coverings off myself. Mostly just… Make sure I remember to eat and make sure I don’t accidentally burn the house down with the candles.”
“You got it,” Cisco said, pulling Caitlin in for one last tight hug. She sighed into his collarbone and he pet her hair. “It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it, hell, I don’t believe it either, but it has to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”
“I don’t know if I will be,” Caitlin admitted. “It’s so hard for me to think that he’s dead, that Ronnie’s-there was no body before, either. What if he’s still alive? Stein’s alive, so-so he must be alive too, right?”
“I know. I don’t know-he’s not-” Cisco shook his head. “I think all we can hope for is that he’s remembered. I wish I could say something else, but… You know me, Cait, I’m no good at stuff like this.”
She knew he wasn’t. Cisco used humor to cope, used humor to cover up the pain, he didn’t ever let it show to people unless it was really, really bad. And she had never seen it be really bad. He’d told her that he started using humor to cope when he was little, after his brother died. Just to keep his family happy. Just to keep them going.
Caitlin could never do that. She had to shut her emotions up inside, keep them in so she wouldn’t let it all out. It was a far from perfect method, but…
Cisco squeezed her hand, and Caitlin smiled at him. It didn’t feel genuine, but it was a start. At least they had each other. At least they were still here.
Outside, a chipping sparrow, reddish crest raised, puffed out his chest and started to sing, almost mechanical-sounding notes ringing in the chilly air.