This show gets to me! I've written more fics for this show, in a shorter time period, than any of my previously published fics. This is a tag to episode 1x20, "The Trap." I can't imagine what poor Cisco must be going through, psychologically.

Barry had raced off to make sure Iris was safe. She was fine; it was Eddie who was missing. After Wells's taunting message, the drastic reality of their situation set in, but there was nothing more they could do that night. Barry was pacing and pacing, his brow furrowed, his eyes stormy. He wanted to take action now, which was ludicrous. They didn't know where Wells was, where to begin looking for him. They were all spent. Joe was finally able to talk him into coming home, but they all knew Barry wouldn't rest easily that night. It was just a matter of time before he burnt out.

Cisco was sitting in front of the computer, watching over and over again what had happened that night. It was weird to see himself. The video - the way "Wells" moved, the words he said - paralleled his dream so exactly, until it veered off into some twisted direction no one had expected. Caitlin came over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Cisco. I'll drive you home."

Cisco was quiet as they drove. He was staring out the window, without really perceiving anything. Each time they passed under a street lamp, Caitlin could see his reflection mirrored in the glass. His face was troubled. Every once in a while, he squeezed his eyes shut, as though trying to hide from some terrible vision. Caitlin could only imagine what he was seeing, what he was going through.

She parted her lips, a question on the tip of her tongue, but she decided against saying anything. She knew the value of silence. It had become her best defense. Cisco was a talkative person; it wasn't normal for him to be so quiet. But she had to trust that if he wanted to tell her about what was going on then he would. He just needed to know she was there to listen when he was ready.

Caitlin lifted one pale hand from the steering wheel, and reaching over the gear shift, took his hand in her own. He looked at her, surprised, but then he softened into a sad smile. She removed her eyes from the road long enough to look into his face and give him a loving smile. I'm here. I'll always be here. He turned and looked out the window again, but he didn't release her hand until they pulled up in front of his building.

Cisco didn't move. He just kept staring out the window.

"Do you want me to walk you up?" she asked gently.

Even in the dim light, she could see him blush shyly. He was embarrassed. He thought he must look like a ridiculous child to her. What he needed to do, he told himself, was just suck it up and get over it. He had heard that from his father his entire life: "Be a man. Suck it up. Just deal with it." Yet he never seemed to be able to. He felt things too deeply.

"Hey," Caitlin whispered, as though reading his thoughts, "it's okay to not be okay."

He nodded. When he opened his door, Caitlin opened hers, and went with him into the building. As the elevator doors opened onto the eighth floor she remarked, "I've never been to your place before." He shrugged and grunted in reply. His apartment wasn't anything spectacular.

Caitlin watched as he attempted to unlock the door. His hands were trembling, and the key kept missing. Finally, he got it open. "Be careful of the trip wire," he remarked, stepping over something she couldn't see into the dark room. Caitlin mimicked his movements. Before he turned on a light, Cisco opened a small control panel on the wall, and started pushing buttons. "Security system," he murmured in explanation.

Cisco flicked on a light switch, and the apartment was bathed in light. It consisted mostly of a large living area, with open kitchen, and a bedroom and bath off to one side. "Make yourself at home," he said, before disappearing into his room. The place was a geek's paradise. Tech littered every available space – desk, coffee table, kitchen table, counter, chairs, bar-stools, the basket in the corner. There were posters and fandom memorabilia everywhere – Walking Dead, Battlestar Galactica, Sherlock Holmes, Star Trek, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Doctor Who. And those were just the ones she had some knowledge of. The television was surrounded by mountains of dvds and games, the biggest speakers Caitlin had seen in her life, and a few different gaming consoles. His bookcase was lined with science texts, comic books, and George R. R Martin's novels. How did he ever find the time to actually watch this much television, play this many games? Caitlin smiled. This was basically exactly how she had pictured Cisco's apartment. She walked over to the picture window and gazed out. "Wow, this is an amazing view." From the corner of her eye, she noticed something flashing near the casements. Was that a motion detector?

Caitlin sauntered over to the bookcase again, and ran her fingers along the tops of the books. What could be taking him so long? There were a couple of framed photos on a table next to it, the only two pictures she had noticed. The first one was fairly recent – Barry, Cisco, and herself, from one of the rare nights they had a chance to go out. There was glow stick splattered on their shirts and faces. They were laughing. Caitlin smiled. The second photo was half-hidden behind the first. It was Cisco and a woman. Ooh, curious. She picked up the frame so she could get a better look. "Hey, is this you and Black Canary?!"

"I wasn't supposed to show anyone," he said, finally emerging, and going into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Sure." As he opened the fridge, she turned back to the table and returned the photo to its proper place, rearranging the other frame slightly, so that it was easier to see. "I don't know how you do it. You're very clever, Cisco."

Behind her, there was a shattering sound. Caitlin swung around. Cisco was standing there, staring straight ahead. You're very clever, Cisco. His whole body was shaking. Shards of broken glass littered the floor at his feet, steeped in puddles of Pepsi.

"Cisco?" His face was twisting into hideous contortions as he struggled with his emotions. You're smart, Cisco. But you're not that smart. He kept staring ahead, watching something she couldn't see. It frightened her. "Cisco? Cisco!" She hurried over to him and hesitantly placed her hand on his arm. But to me, you've been dead for centuries.

He jumped away from her in fear. Hunching his shoulders and cowering, he whispered, "Please, don't hurt me."

"Cisco, it's me. It's just Caitlin."

"Caitlin?" His eyes focused on her, uncertainly, as though he was seeing her for the first time. He crumpled against her and wept. She wrapped her arms around him, and stroked his back in soothing half-circles.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay."

They stood that way for a long time. His body trembled against hers. His sobs were the only sound in the apartment, punctuated by her gentle reassurances. It broke her heart to see him like this, but she held it together. Finally, his sobs subsided into whimpers, and she led him over to the sofa. She grabbed a Tardis blanket from the back and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Thank you."

"Cisco, what's going on?" She had to ask; this was too much.

"It was like...I was there again. It seemed so real. And I felt it, oh god, Caitlin, I felt his hand go into my chest, and I saw his eyes as he looked at me, and my heart–" He sobbed again. Caitlin's nose wrinkled in concern. She knew how important it had been to Barry to know what had happened, but she shouldn't have let him probe into Cisco's mind, pulling up memories of something that had never, in this timeline, even happened. She could only imagine how difficult it was. But even her deepest imagination couldn't help her conceive the pain, the fear, Cisco was experiencing. And to have that scenario almost replayed tonight. Wells closing in on him, like a predator stalking its prey; Wells taunting him, entering through the force field meant to keep him safe; only to find out it wasn't Wells, that the man was still out there, somewhere, could even be watching them right now...

Caitlin could still hear Cisco's cries for help ringing in her ears. Her heart tightened, like it had back at the lab, as she watched the monitor and saw "Wells" step into the containment field and threaten Cisco. She had felt certain that she was going to watch him die.

"After Joe and I found Harrison Wells' body, the nightmares started getting worse. So I added some security measures," he gestured vaguely to the apartment in general. "It made me feel better, you know? But realistically it wouldn't have stopped him, especially if he had been watching me install all this." He swallowed. The thought disturbed both of them. "He killed me, Caitlin. Murdered me. He told me I was like his son, and then he killed me." Cisco buried his face in his hands. "It felt like he tore my heart to shreds."

"It wasn't real."

"It was, in another time-line. And he's still out there. If he killed me before, who's to say he won't again?"

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Cisco. Everything will be alright. Barry won't let anything happen to you." She was trying to convince herself as much as she was him.

"He didn't save me the first time, Caitlin. He didn't save me." He looked at her, as the truth of his statement settled in. If Barry hadn't accidentally launched himself backward in time, Cisco would be dead and buried. Somewhere in time, Barry had failed his friends. "Wells plunged his hand into my chest, and I died alone. Alone, in a dark room, on a dirty floor." He looked away from her. "I keep wishing I'm still dreaming, that I'll wake up and discover none of this is real, that it's just been one freakish, vivid nightmare. But this is it. This is reality." He leaned back against the cushions with a heavy sigh, and passed both his hands over his face. He felt drained and exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, but he couldn't sleep. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since Captain Cold had kidnapped him and Dante. Every night, the nightmares waited for him, and reminded him of his own mortality. Of how close he was to death.

They lapsed into silence. Caitlin didn't know what to say. Any words of comfort that came to mind felt false and empty. This was really happening. This was their lives right now. And it sucked.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" he finally asked.

"Nothing that has happened is your fault, Cisco."

"No, it is. Barry's dad is never going to get out of prison, and it's all my fault."

Caitlin stared at him, bewildered. "How could that possibly be your fault?"

"I ruined the confession. Wells, he knew and...Hannibal...Joe only shot because he thought Wells was going to hurt me. But if it had been Wells, he could have died, and then Mr. Allen would have been in prison forever. Because of me. What if I'm the thing that is standing in Barry's way of freeing his dad?"

Caitlin put both her hands on the young man's shoulders. "Cisco, look at me. Look. At. Me." He complied. His eyes were red and wet, his face drawn and tired. If he looked like a child earlier, he reminded her of an old man now. He had aged a hundred years under the weight of everything that had happened. "None of that is your fault. We thought we were trapping Wells, but we underestimated him. I know Joe, and if he was in the same situation a hundred times, he would take that shot every time. There are going to be other chances to catch Wells. We will get Barry's dad out of prison." She pushed down a sob that was threatening to come out. "All that matters is that you're alright."

Caitlin stayed with Cisco late into the night; it was almost four when she finally got into her car. As she drove, she gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. It had been gnawing at her all night, but Caitlin hadn't said anything about it. She was grinding her teeth, as she thought about Cisco, about how difficult it had been to get him to sleep. She kept replaying the image of him staring into space over and over again.

Cisco wasn't okay. She was worried he might be struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder. This was eating at Cisco. He needed help. He may be alive, but he wasn't alright, not really. Who could expect him to be? In the past couple of weeks he had been murdered, kidnapped, beaten, witness to his brother being tortured, forced to relive his death, threatened, and almost killed (again).

How could Barry keep demanding so much of him, of them? Caitlin was trying to push the anger down, because it wasn't fair, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't Barry's fault; she knew that he could be obsessive and oblivious. She knew how difficult this was for him, how betrayed he felt. But, yeah, it was his fault.

She had watched Wells approach Cisco; she had seen the terror on Cisco's face. She had screamed his name, run in a blind panic, though she knew she wouldn't make it in time for whatever happened, knew she could walk in and find Cisco's corpse. Cisco could have died. If it had been Wells and not Hannibal, he probably would have. If Barry could out-run a bullet, who's to say Wells couldn't as well?

Thank God for Joe. He had reacted immediately when Cisco was in danger. Three shots; no hesitation. He wouldn't have let anything happen to Cisco. But Barry had grabbed two of the bullets, just missed the third. In the time he had stopped the bullets, Wells could have killed Cisco, could have whisked him away and left them wondering what Wells was doing to him. But, no, Barry hadn't been thinking of what Wells could have done. He hadn't even thought of running for Cisco. He had been thinking of only one thing. The confession, the bloody confession. All he cared about was getting that damn confession. But how exactly did he plan to use that confession? Walk into the station and say, "Hey, here's a man from the future confessing to murdering my mother fifteen years ago, so can you please let my daddy out now?"

She shouldn't be upset; this was Barry's parents they were talking about. But she was sure even Henry would tell him that he needed to think this through more. She thought there were better ways to handle this situation. She couldn't name any at the moment, but she knew there were. They just needed to find them. There had to be a solution.

A solution that didn't always involve putting Cisco's life in danger.

Would Cisco's life be the price paid for apprehending Wells? How many causalities would it take for Barry to realize that he wasn't the only one being affected here? She had lost everything – job, reputation, fiance. She couldn't lose her best friend too. She was trying not to think too far ahead; the future overwhelmed her. She had absolutely no idea where she was going to go from here. But she kept her mouth shut; she did whatever Barry asked her.

But tonight, with Cisco... She wouldn't say anything to Barry. She couldn't. Words were useless. They wouldn't change anything, wouldn't help him see. He would have to figure it out on his own. She just hoped they all survived long enough for him to figure things out.

For such a quick man, he could be pretty dumb. Why couldn't he see how Wells' betrayal was affecting all of them? When would it be enough? When would it be over?

Caitlin wondered if it ever would be.

End

I hope you enjoyed! I gotta admit, I was frustrated with Barry in this episode. Also, I love Caitlin as a character. She seems like the perfect blend of anger (and she has a lot of justifiable reasons to be angry!) and gentleness. She's loving but she's also bad-ass. I think she would see how much Cisco is hurting, and be worried about him, and she would be mad at Barry for not realizing it, in the same way he brushed off her concerns when she went to Wells' house.
If you read, please review! I love hearing from you! Let me know what you thought of the fic, and let me know what you thought of the episode!
All my love,
BCA