Summary: Hartley knew it was coming. Nidoran was his first pet rat and his oldest of the bunch. Four years was pretty long lived for a rat, so honestly he'd been lucky to have her in his life for so long. But she was just a pet.

So why does his chest hurt like this as he realizes that she's not just sleeping in?

Notes: For Hartmon Bingo I3 - Last Times/Farewells

CW: Death of a pet

Space to Mourn

Rats were playful, intelligent, clean creatures and Hartley had always been a little fascinated by them. He hadn't been allowed to keep pets as a child and his parents had used his inappropriate reaction to his neighbor's dog dying as reason number one.

("They're just animals, Hartley. Stop making such a fuss and stop crying for the attention of it.")

He'd been genuinely grieved by Sparky's death, but at least his neighbor had been kind about it, taking Hartley aside and offering him a cookie and some advice.

("It's okay to cry, kiddo. But Sparky's at peace now. It's important to remember that. He was in a lot of pain and sometimes death is a kindness.")

It hadn't felt like a kindness to lose Sparky from his life, but Hartley'd moved on. He'd been eight and it wasn't like someone else's dog was going to be the defining loss of his life. Maybe his parents disowning him ten years later, or what Harrison did to wreck Hartley's career and his heart all at once.

Finally getting himself a pet rat had been his therapist's idea, though Hartley'd certainly liked the idea enough to go through with it. Despite leaving his parents behind, he'd still clung to some of their edicts. Like the no pets thing. But getting a creature he knew a lot about already and could easily take care of would be beneficial for him in taking another step from leaving the toxic aspects of his childhood behind. And having a pet would help him learn to express affection more easily, and receive affection too.

Nidoran had been his first pet. A white rat with red eyes, though she had what Hartley could swear was a faint lavender hue to her fur. Hence the name, since Nidoran was purple. Though Nidoran wasn't the only purple rodent Pokémon, but that was the first one Hartley'd thought of after deciding Rattata was too obvious. He'd eventually gotten a few others - Ratagast the brown, Chu-Chu (named for the little monkey from Revolutionary Girl Utena, whom Hartley had long believed to be some kind of mouse), and Hamelin - but Nidoran was Hartley's first pet and she held a special place in his heart.

But the thing was, rats only lived a few years. Average life span was somewhere between two and four years, so Nidoran living four - almost five - years was quite impressive. She'd helped Hartley through so much. But he'd known her time was limited and lately she'd been showing signs of muscle weakness and stiff joints. She'd been sleeping more often than she was active and she hadn't been eating as much, causing noticeable weight loss. The vet had assured Hartley that, though sad, it was normal aging and he should consider preparing for the morning when she didn't wake up.

He must have seemed ridiculous, panicking over a rat who was clearly just old. At least Cisco hadn't been there to witness Hartley's overreaction, much as Hartley would have liked to have Cisco there in the waiting room while Hartley did his best to keep Nidoran from being upset by an overexcited terrier or to hold him in the car afterwards as Hartley gently leaned his head against the steering wheel and tried to understand why everything was hitting him so hard.

Nidoran was important to him, but she was just a rat. It was inappropriate to react like this over an animal, right? She was getting old and infirm and when her time came, death would be a kindness that took her away from her aching limbs and whatever was making her disinterested in her favorite treats. Hartley shouldn't be getting so upset like this.

He shouldn't have started crying when he carefully moved a sleeping Nidoran, exhausted by the ordeal of the vet visit, back into the cage she shared with the others. But he did and he was still crying by the time Cisco got home from from the Team Flash emergency he'd been called in on earlier that day.

"Oh sweetheart," Cisco had murmured, holding Hartley tightly and kissing away his tears after hearing that Nidoran wasn't so much sick as she was dying of old age, "I've got you. You don't have to go through this alone."

Hartley still didn't understand why he was going through anything at all, though. It was normal. Everything died and it was sad, but why was he making such a big deal about it.

Though Hartley suspected that voicing those thoughts would probably somehow be inappropriate too. So he bottled it up and went on with his life.

But here he was, a few weeks down the line, and Nidoran wasn't waking up.

He'd put fresh water in their water bottles which usually woke up his four little darlings, though Nidoran had been sleeping through the noise these last few months. But usually setting out their food and snacks would wake her up, even if she wasn't super interested in eating these days.

But Nidoran didn't move from where she was curled up in the bedding. So Hartley gave her a better look and realized, with a sort of detached and achy feeling in his own chest, that Nidoran wasn't breathing. Her little body was too still not because she was sleeping peacefully but because she was dead.

Hartley's hands felt numb as he took her from the cage and held her close to his chest. Just last night she'd been crawling over his shoulders while he read on the couch. For the last time. It couldn't be...

"Hartley?" Cisco hurried over from the bedroom door and shut the cage. "Oh, no... Nidoran..."

And that was the point where everything in Hartley's chest boiled over and he began to sob, clutching the tiny, fragile body in his hands close to his heart. "Sh-she's gone." Hartley cried, letting Cisco guide him to the couch and hold him as if he was as delicate and precious as the soft, furry rat in Hartley's hands. "She's gone," Hartley whispered, burying his face against Cisco's chest.

"I know, I know. It's okay, Hart. Just cry it all out, sweetheart. I'm here. I've got you..." Cisco rubs Hartley's back until Hartley calms down enough to snuffle quietly instead of the loud nonsense he'd been making.

"I-I'm sorry," Hartley muttered. "I know I'm being ridiculous about this."

"No, you're not," Cisco retorted, still rubbing Hartley's back. "Nidoran was your pet and pets are family, Hart. She helped you find your smile again." Cisco kissed the top of Hartley's head. "She had an important place in your life and your heart. Of course you're going to grieve her like this."

Hartley opened his mouth to object, but then he looked down through tear smudged glasses at Nidoran in his hands. She wasn't just a rat. She'd been more than that to him. And there was nothing inappropriate about grieving for that loss.

He'd been letting his parents and the things they'd told him as a child - things that were wrong and hurtful - keep hurting him as an adult.

The very thing he'd originally gotten Nidoran to help him learn to stop doing.

"You're allowed to grieve for her and for what she meant to you, Hart," Cisco continued softly.

"I loved her so much." Hartley's voice cracked and Cisco rubbed a little hard between Hartley's shoulders. "I don't know how to say goodbye."

"I know." Cisco sounded like he'd been crying too and, when Hartley looked up, he saw there were indeed tear tracks running down Cisco's cheeks. "I don't know how to say goodbye either." Cisco reached down and, gently, petted Nidoran's shoulders the way she'd always liked. "I loved her too."

"What am I supposed to do?" Hartley asked.

"Whatever you do, you won't be doing it alone. I'm with you, all the way," Cisco promised. "Maybe... we could bury her someplace with lots of flowers."

"She'd like that. Nidoran liked flowers," Hartley sniffed. "Think it'd be okay to bury her in the flowerbeds at STAR Labs?"

"I think that'll be just fine."