A/N: Takes place after 3x07 but before 3x08.
It's dark and cold, colder than I was before. It only takes me a moment to realize where- and when- I am.
August 9th, 2016. Roughly 8:30 PM.
I'm standing on the side of the highway, as usual. The road is dark, lit only by the headlights of passing cars. I watch the oncoming stream of traffic, waiting for his car to appear.
There it is. That lame 2004 Volvo he loved to drive around. He was so proud of that car, because it was the only thing he ever bought with his own money.
Why is he going so damn fast? He's obviously not paying attention to where he's going.
He was never a good driver. Only reason he passed the test was because the Driver's Ed instructor was in love with him. He was too arrogant to ever be a good driver.
Come on, Dante, look where you're going...
There it is. That stupid blue 2010 Wrangler. Who buys a blue Jeep, anyway?
Slow down, you moron! Is he on his phone? If you would just look up for one second-
Oh jeez, I can see his face. That's new. He won't even know what hit him if he doesn't look up-
He looked up. Just too late. He looks so scared.
Cisco woke up with a shudder. He felt his whole body trembling with adrenaline and repressed emotion. What time is it? He fumbled for his phone on the dresser beside him and tapped the power button.
3:51 AM. That's even earlier than last night. Damn it, I'm so tired. But there was no way he would be able to go back to sleep now. He was never able to sleep after that dream.
Except this time it didn't quite feel like a dream. This time it had felt a hell of a lot more real. He had known he was cold, for instance. He had felt the other cars rushing by him. And this time, he had seen Dante's face. That had been too much for him.
Cisco rolled over onto his side and groaned. The post-nightmare splitting migraine had settled in. Dreaming about his dead brother was enough to make him want to stay in bed all day, but the headache that felt like thirty nails being pounded into his skull was just the icing on the nightmarish cake. This had been going on for two weeks now- the same dream waking him in the middle of the night, and every night it got earlier. He hadn't been able to bring himself to get in bed until after midnight, and a couple restless hours later the nightmare had yanked him awake. He didn't know how he was going to make it through work today. Not that anyone will notice. If Caitlin or Barry had noticed his sleep deprivation, they didn't care. Life at S.T.A.R. Labs was even more chaotic than ever, with Alchemy on the rise, and Caitlin and Barry had been so preoccupied with fighting metas that they hadn't even noticed when he blacked out twice the other day.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, forcing himself to stand up. His legs felt weak beneath him and then gave. He fell to his knees and let out a weak moan. His body was still trembling.
All he wanted was to sleep. Stupid dream.
And why wouldn't his hands stop shaking? He stared at them in disgust, trying to control the violent shaking, but the vibration only seemed to intensify-
Hang on. Vibration.
Vibe.
"You idiot," he whispered, and staggered to his feet. Of course. Why hadn't he seen this before? He hadn't been dreaming about Dante. He'd been Vibing. That explained the weird realism of the dream, the lack of sleep- and the shaking. How did I not realize that? I know what a Vibe feels like.
Was it possible to Vibe to the past? He'd never done it before. Sure, he'd Vibed himself and Iris into the speed force once, but that was different. It wasn't exactly the past. And even if he could Vibe to the past, why would he do it subconsciously? Or how, for that matter?
He glanced at his phone and considered calling Caitlin. This was a Vibe thing, so that meant it was okay to call her at 4 in the morning, right? It was a work emergency. Really, the reason he wanted to call her was because he was tired and lonely as hell and he needed someone to talk to. But that was selfish reasoning. Let her sleep. Which was ironic because he was the one who could barely get to sleep when Caitlin probably slept eight hours a night. Still, he couldn't bring himself to wake her up.
He walked shakily to his bathroom door and splashed some cold water on his face, but it didn't make him feel any more awake. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, appraising himself. I look awful. He looked pale and washed out, which only made the shadows under his eyes more pronounced. This was what two weeks of not sleeping did to you.
He thought about going downstairs to work out, but he felt so weak and fatigued that he didn't think he could make it down the stairs. He stumbled back over to his bed and collapsed on top of the covers.
The rattling of the subway was driving him crazy. He felt like his head was going to implode. He reached for the headphones hanging around his neck and slid them over his ears, attempting to drown out the sound.
He hadn't slept at all that morning, just laid on his bed for three hours trying to force himself to stop thinking, but his body was on fire with vibrations. And he couldn't stop thinking about Dante. The horrified look on his face when he finally realized he was in danger- that had just brought back all his grief over his brother all over again.
He brought one of his hands up to his face and studied it. It was tremoring so quickly that if he stared at it long enough, it didn't even look like it was moving.
His powers had never been out of control like this, not since he'd first discovered them. There was still a lot he didn't know how to do, and sure, there had been times when he felt like his mind was being barraged by Vibes- but he'd never felt like a live wire before.
The train came screeching to a halt and his body lurched forward. He barely caught himself before faceplanting on the ground. He awkwardly stumbled to his feet and out the door, ignoring the stares he'd attracted. The noises of the train station felt like a jackhammer in his brain, so he turned the volume of his music up louder.
Whatever was going on with his powers, it probably wasn't a big deal. It probably felt worse than it was because he was tired. But you're tired because your powers kept you from sleeping. Maybe that wasn't the case. There was a lot going on at work, a lot going on with his friends, and he was still coping with the death of his brother. He had every reason to feel stressed and tense. Probably it was just the stress that was keeping him awake, and the sleep deprivation was making him paranoid. Probably.
A few minutes later he had arrived at S.T.A.R. Labs. He pushed through the double glass doors, swiped his key card, and hit the button on the elevator. Impatient, he hit it again, but when he did, he felt a weird pulse of energy pulsing at his fingertips, and he heard the elevator jolt to a halt inside of the shaft. Irritated, he hit the button again, but it was useless. Did I do that?
He stumbled up the stairs and into the lab. Barry and Caitlin were already there, talking about something over the computers. They glanced up when they heard him walk in.
"Hey Cisco," Barry greeted him, waving a hand. Caitlin's face lit up when she saw him.
"Hey Cisco," she said brightly. "It's good to see you. We thought maybe you weren't coming in."
Cisco stared at her, confused. "What are you talking about? I'm not that-" He looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 10:30. "-late."
10:30? I left the house at 7. It only takes me thirty minutes to get to work.
What was I doing for three hours?
He realized that Barry and Caitlin were staring at him, looking puzzled and a little bit worried. He forced a fake smile onto his face.
"I, uh, slept in, I guess," he lied. "Sorry I'm late." He joined them at the desk and collapsed into a desk chair, trying to make it look casual but he was worried they had caught on to his exhaustion. "So, what do we got?"
I don't know where I am. It's not the highway. This is new.
"Francisco." I know that voice. It's deeply familiar, and yet I can barely recognize it.
"Who said that?" I glance around, but I can't see anyone. I am alone.
"Hello?" I look down at my hands. They're vibrating again. I can see a small field of energy forming at my fingertips.
"Who said what?"
Cisco's head snapped up again. He blinked, trying desperately to reorient himself. "Huh?"
"Earth to Cisco." A hand waved in front of his face and he realized Barry was sitting next to him. "Hey. Who were you talking to?"
"Um…" Cisco blinked again and forced himself to sit upright. "No-one."
Barry gave him a weird look. "You said 'who said that'."
"I just… zoned out for a minute." Barry didn't look convinced. "I dunno, man, what's it to you?" He said angrily, and stood up to get away from Barry, who looked hurt. Cisco didn't give a damn.
"Dude, were you Vibing? Because if you were-"
"Yes- I mean, no," Cisco corrected himself emphatically. "I wasn't. I didn't see anything." He didn't want to talk to Barry about any of this. Someone, but not him. Barry had lost that privilege himself.
Infuriatingly, Barry just looked more concerned. "Are you feeling okay? No offense, but you look terrible."
"I'm fine." Cisco angrily slammed down the files he had been holding. He hadn't known he was holding them. Where did they come from? What was he doing? Thoughts raced through his head and overwhelmed him.
"Francisco." It was the same voice again, but this time it was louder. Cisco snapped his head up, trying to discern where it came from.
"Who are you?" he said out loud, his eyes darting around frantically. He tripped around the corner of the desk, accidently knocking a mug onto the floor. It shattered at his feet, but he didn't even glance at it.
"Cisco-" Barry's voice sounded far away.
"You don't need your friends. You're more powerful than you know."
"Where are you?" Cisco shouted, and his migraine seized his head again. "Show yourself!"
"Cisco!" He felt Barry's hands grab his shoulders. He tried to look at Barry, but his face seemed blurry and out of focus. "Cisco, you're scaring me. Who are you talking to?"
Cisco stared at Barry numbly. "I- I dunno." He felt his legs weaken as he slumped to the floor.