Behind every smile is a world of frowns.
He wonders sometimes, if Caitlin hates him for what he did. Sure, she says it's okay, she says he did the right thing, and after Ronnie came back it was certainly okay, but all the same. He knows how people are, even when they don't want to be.
Sometimes, when he's lying in bed at night, unable to sleep, he thinks about it. The feeling that could be there, the hatred and anger pushed down deep. He's the one who pushed the button. He's the one who closed the door. And she has to see him and work with him every day, knowing that the hands of the man right next to her were the hands that had condemned the love of her life.
It must be hell, he thinks.
And on top of that, to have to deal with his guilt. He couldn't be a proper detriment to society because he saved a lot of lives that night and he felt awful, he was sure she could see it on his face. She couldn't even be properly mad, but she was, and that just made her feel worse, which made her hate him even more.
And then he wonders if he's not giving Caitlin enough credit, if it's just him that's like that, and then not only does he feel bad about what he did but what he's doing now, bringing her down to his level as if he hasn't done enough.
He wonders how many people in the world have to deal with this, the unique sense of guilt that is this thing he carries around with him.
And then, there's the cold gun, and Barry is furious. Blood on his hands, he shouts, and when Cisco tells him that he made yet another mistake and he has to live with that, well, that's not good enough. And why should it be? But Cisco knew what it was to not be able to save someone months before Barry ever learned about his speed. He's done things that Barry can't even comprehend- he has killed. Not just failed to save. He ended the life of someone- someone he knew, one of his best friends. And he did it without hesitation.
Barry doesn't know what that's like.
He hates himself for it. Pressing that button. He should've been the one to go into the accelerator. The world would've moved on if he'd died, and Ronnie had lived. Everyone would've been happier. But no. No, he had to stay out in the world, where he would survive and have to live with that guilt. If he had just waited… Ronnie had been on the other side of those doors. He had been right. There.
If he had just waited. If he had just waited, Ronnie would've been okay.
Now that he knows that there are alternate dimensions, he wonders about the places where he was the one to have died, instead of Ronnie. He wonders about the places where he waited, and saved them both.
He thinks about those places, and he thinks about Caitlin, and he thinks about Ronnie.
He doesn't think about how he saved Caitlin. He doesn't think about how if he hadn't done it, half the city would've been vaporized. Cisco's never been called a hero in his entire life- that's not his role. If anything, he's the sidekick. Maybe not even that. He's the comic relief, the background noise. The person who talks in the ear of the real heroes.
A hero would've been able to save Ronnie.
And no one thought he was a hero, anyway. The whole city hated them all, after all, regardless of who did what. Cisco was no exception. He was sure the public didn't even know about what he had done. But that was fine by him. He didn't need the press coverage.
Everyone dreams of being the hero, but no one wants to be the hero who loses someone. He's done one of those things. And it wasn't even the right one.
He was pretty broken up about it, understandably. Until one day about three weeks after the explosion, on the day of Ronnie's funeral. He had gone, naturally, and in the kitchen Caitlin had screamed and yelled and shouted at him that he had no right to be there and he had no right to be this upset and so many other terrible things. He had left before the service, had driven out to the harbor and almost killed himself right then and there.
Really, the only reason he hadn't ended it that night was because he knew Caitlin would blame herself, and that was the last thing she needed.
So he'd gone to work the following Monday with a soda and a bag of Red Vines and he'd smiled at her, smiled in general. She had apologized, but he brushed it off like it didn't matter.
"You're right," he'd told her. "I have no right to be upset. So, I won't be."
She felt bad, he knew, but he just kept smiling, kept assuring her that it was okay, he understood, she had been right. He knew it was petty- oh, you don't want me to be upset? Fine, I'll suffer on my own, then - but he couldn't bring himself to care. He devoted his anger and dejectedness into hiding his guilt and grief under that signature smile of his.
He had perfected his smile in high school, when he'd used it almost every day. For the most part, he had been genuinely happy, but some days… Some days, he'd be awful. Everything would be awful. He had never had the best home to begin with, but sometimes it got much worse- his Mama would yell and scream and tell him that he was worthless, and why couldn't he be more like Dante? His Papi would look at him like he was the scum of the earth because he liked science. Jake Puckett would corner him and beat on him for at least ten minutes in one go.
And yet, on most days, he was cheerful, and when he wasn't cheerful, his friends took notice. They didn't want to be around him. So, he learned how to be cheerful all the time.
Fake it 'till you make it, right?
And that was what he was doing now. He had faked being cheerful for so long, it just seemed like who he was. He only let it down sometimes, at the appropriate times, so that people would know that he was still human. He was downtrodden when Barry was furious with him over the cold gun- he was full of regret. He had to show it, or Barry and the others would think he didn't care. He nearly left that day, his friend's words ringing a little too true in his mind, a little too close to the voice in his head that told him such things whenever he did something wrong.
Most of the time, he could ignore the voice. But when someone outside of himself affirmed the things it said, well… He couldn't ignore it. And the way Barry made it sound, he didn't want Cisco around anymore. Team Flash couldn't afford another royal screw-up like that one.
He had almost left that day, for real, but the drive to make up for what he had done forced him to stay. He'd made a mistake, yes, but he'd be damned if he didn't stay behind and clean up his mess. He wouldn't leave Barry to do it himself. They're still angry after he stands fifteen feet away from Captain Cold, from the gun that he created, with a vacuum cleaner and some LEDs, nothing in the means of protection, and threatens the man away. But they're a little less angry after that.
Even then, Cisco knew that Wells cared more for Barry than he ever would for Cisco. He shrugged it off, telling himself that it didn't matter. Naturally the closest thing he'd ever had to a loving father figure would choose Barry over him in terms of favorites. Who wouldn't? It didn't matter that Cisco had been there longer, that he'd stood by Wells and STAR through the aftermath of the biggest attempt to change the world the twenty-first century had ever seen. Barry had charisma and brains and speed. And Barry didn't make such big mistakes.
Hartley had been before Cisco in terms of Wells' favorites, too. But he hadn't minded, then- he understood Hartley. Another misunderstood kid who lost his parents' approval somewhere along the way and found it again in Doctor Wells. Hartley was territorial- he didn't want to lose what he'd found. Cisco could understand that.
He supposed that he didn't mind that Barry was Wells' new favorite. After all, he couldn't just resent his best friend for being himself. Sometimes, though, he wondered what it might've been like if he'd been a meta, if somehow this disaster had made Francisco Ramon special in some way that actually meant something. He decides that it wouldn't matter- Barry was the hero here, and there was no denying it.
A hero wouldn't have let a villain like Hartley go, not on the hint of a chance that he knew where Ronnie was, the barest of hopes that he was still alive, that Cisco had not killed him that day.
He'd thought he had the upper hand, but no. Hartley was far smarter than that, and Cisco knew it. He knew this man; he knew what lengths the estranged Rathaway son would go to in order to come out on top. And he did it anyway, and Caitlin's fury alone is enough to make him want to die. She thinks that he's done this for her, and for an instant he feels bad for allowing a moment of pettiness to control him all those months ago, for being prompted to hide his emotions in spite, because she has no idea how much Ronnie's death affected him, and she has no clue why he might have his own reasons for wanting to follow any and every hint of a lead, even if it means letting his personal arch enemy walk the streets again with destructive tech.
He decides that day that she doesn't ever think about how Cisco killed him, because if she did she'd know. The rest of Team Flash is furious with him, and he knows that they have every right to be, but he's angry, too. Angry at Hartley, angry at himself for trusting him. Most of all, though, he's angry that not one of the people in this room, the three people closest to him in the whole wide world- not a single one of them had ever had the thought that maybe Cisco considered himself guilty for the accelerator, for Ronnie. It hadn't occurred to Caitlin, who had been right there when it happened, nor to Barry, his closest friend probably ever. Not even to Doctor Wells, or maybe it did occur to him and he just didn't care. He was angry at them for not seeing through his thin mask, his cover in the form of a smile. And he was angry and ashamed of himself for being angry at them for not seeing through the defenses that he himself put up specifically so that they wouldn't know, to make it easier on them.
They're all angry that day, and every single bit of it is his fault. Until Ronnie comes back, and then it's all okay but Cisco is still so. Damn. Angry. No one is mad at him now, no one cares that Hartley is still out there. He knows he made the right decision letting Hartley go and they know it, too, but he doesn't get an apology or a thank you and he knows he doesn't deserve it, either, and it makes him mad but he pushes it aside because finally, something he did ended up being something right. For once, Francisco Ramon is partially responsible for fixing, for making better.
It's a good feeling.
The day he gets kidnapped is the worst day of his life. He really should've known something was up- a girl as pretty as Lisa would never go for a guy like him. Even with the blonde wig she was beautiful, and both he and Barry had assumed that she had been talking to Barry when she'd walked up. Because Cisco Ramon is not, and will never be, that lucky.
He walked right into that trap, and the worst part was that he knew it was because he'd wanted to. He was smarter than that, he should've picked up on the fact that something was wrong. And then it was Snart, and Dante was there and they were going to hurt his brother if he didn't do everything they wanted.
He had to hand it to them, they had done their homework. Because Cisco would've died without hesitation for Barry's secret, he would've taken it to his grave, the one redeeming action in a long line of mistakes. He would've been brave, he would've finally made up for everything, and no matter what, he wouldn't have done anything to help them. He wouldn't have cared if they'd killed him, tortured him, they could've done anything and he wouldn't have wavered.
But they had Dante.
Cisco knew that his parents didn't care for him the way they cared for his older brother. It had been clear to him for as long as he could remember. And if anything happened to him, their entire world would be gone. He loved his parents, despite their parenting, and he loved his brother, too, and he wouldn't allow that to happen.
So he made the guns. With a few adjustments. But Snart was too smart for that. And then, the unthinkable happened.
His brother got hurt.
He didn't have a choice, then. Dante's hands… His piano was the thing that made their parents adore him so. He could no more let this villain take that away from the rest of his family than take it from them himself. No one would ever forgive him… Including himself.
He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Allow his brother to be hurt, to let his life be ruined, or give up his best friend's identity to a murderer, a supervillain Cisco had been responsible for in the first place, by ever making that despicable gun.
He hated himself for his choice. He would've hated himself no matter what choice he'd made, but this one, he might be able to live with.
Some part of him wondered why he had to keep making these decisions. He wasn't the hero here, so why was it him who kept deciding between life and death, between one person and another? And he made the decisions, one after another, but he never made the right one. If he had Barry's speed, he might've been able to avoid these situations. The sidekick was never called upon like this- and he wasn't even a sidekick! He was more useless to Barry than anyone else on the team. It would've been easy for them to get another engineer. Hell, they had one.
So, Ronnie or STAR? Hartley or Ronnie?
Dante or Barry?
This was strike three, though, wasn't it? Making the cold gun, letting Hartley go, and now giving up the Flash's secret identity to the worst villain they've faced yet?
He's out. They tell him it's okay, that all this means is that he loves his brother, but he knows that this is a mistake that they can't come back from. He knows that the best thing for everyone is for him to leave, to go far, far away from this place and these people and keep them safe from his screw-ups.
But Doctor Wells stops him. The man has no pity, not for an error as grievous at this. But it was the first thing he'd said that got under Cisco's skin.
Before you go shuffling off forever, he had said, like Cisco was some insignificant thing, like he was condemned to be shamed for this for the rest of his meager life. And then he'd come the closest to a motivational speech as he'd ever come, in terms of 'conversations directed at Cisco'. So he'd stayed, with that damnable phrase hiding just under his skin, an irritation that sent anger rippling through him, the only thing that dampened the guilt.
He kind of wishes he hadn't stayed, because it's not long before he's woken up every other night by a terrible dream, a nightmare in which the closest thing to a loving father he's ever known tells him what he's always wanted to hear, tells him that he's like a son to him.
He'd never known that those words could hurt so much. Because the next instant there is a hand in his chest and his heart is scrambled where it beats, and he wakes up gasping, tears streaming from his eyes and the pain in his chest nearly suffocating but not nearly as bad as in the dream.
Soon after that, they send him into the dream while he's awake. He understands the science behind it, knows that it's just a dream, but there's something about it now that makes it so much more real, and he can't say he's not scared as he goes through the motions he's lived through so many times by now. They tell him that he's safe, but when he sees that hand coming for him he knows that this is real, he's going to die here, laying on a table somewhere and locked in a dream that will take his life like Freddy Krueger, hand through chest and all.
And then he's back on the table and it's still real, he knows it now, that some Cisco somewhere is dead at the hands of his mentor and he knows that it was him, it would still be him if Barry hadn't accidentally gone back in time and changed everything, and he might be having problems now but Cisco is damn glad that he did it because he remembers what that was like and it's the worst feeling in the whole universe.
It's the first taste he gets of his powers, this nightmare, only he didn't know it then.
There comes a plan, and Cisco hates it, he hates it with every fiber of his being but he agrees to it. He ought to be safe, they think, with the shield reconfigured, but they're asking him to run off the script of his nightmares and face the man who not only killed him, but did it with a smile. And Cisco knows, somehow, he is sure that he will not be safe but he does it anyway because they need him too, Barry needs him to. A man's life is resting on this and it isn't his.
So he goes into that room, a grim setting for a grim death, he thinks, he can hardly bear to be here right now but he pushes down the fear and lets the anger rise up, lets it sit just beneath his skin and fuel him, an armor made of the words, "In many ways, you've shown me what it's like to have a son". And it works, it works just like they told him it would but he can't let his guard down against this man, he won't, and then he steps through the shield and Cisco knows that it's over, he's going to die for real this time, and no one is going to go back in time to save him this time-
He hears three bangs, rooted to the spot, and a shout and then it's over. Harrison Wells falls dead to the ground.
Only he's not Harrison Wells.
It occurs to Cisco much later, when he's away from that damnable room and back in his own apartment, that Barry was prepared to let what they thought was Wells kill him to save his father. He was looking in the face of death, then, knowing that it was mere seconds away, and Barry tried to stop the bullets. He wonders if Everyman would've killed him, if Joe hadn't. If Barry had succeeded. He knows that it wasn't real so it's okay, he's still alive, but that first night when he's lying in bed with his back pressed to the pillows and his eyes locked on the door, he thinks about how as far as everyone in that room knew, the person Cisco was talking to was Harrison Wells, the Reverse Flash. He thinks about how, as far as everyone in that room was concerned, Cisco was about to die. It's why Joe shot. Cisco was about to die, and Barry was about to let him.
It makes him sick to his stomach, for a few days, but he pushes past it because he's fine, no harm done.
Even so, it takes him a while to get back to the place where he can say that he'd trust Barry with his life.
Harrison Wells becomes Eobard Thawne and someone dies in the process of stopping him but it's not Cisco. Eddie, Eddie Thawne, the pretty boy cop who Cisco liked well enough but had generally unpleasant thoughts toward out of loyalty to Barry, killed himself and erased Thawne from history to save them all.
He's a true hero, and no one will ever know what that means. Cisco makes a vow to always remember him, and the other heroes like him.
He's not the only one to die- Ronnie, too, is lost to them again. Caitlin, married, devastated, has lost the love of her life for the second time in two years and Cisco is pretty sure he's not coming back this time. Barry pushes them away, starts working on his own, but Cisco gets a job with the police, of all people. Caitlin goes to Mercury labs, and the team is done.
For now.
But these people are still his family. After everything they'd been through, everything he'd done, they'd still stood by him, and he would stand by them. Sure, Team Flash was kind of dismantled at the moment, but if there was one thing Cisco was good at, it was assembling things.
And he wasn't doing it alone.