Sorry it took so long. I've been so busy. But I'mma try to stay on schedule from now on. Hope you like it.

Chapter 5

"Barry? Dude, what happened? You need to get to the morgue, like, right now." Cisco eyed the blinking dot that was Barry Allen on his computer. Barry had stopped dead, and sounded confused, but Cisco suddenly had something more important to deal with.

Fuzzwhump, who had been curled up on his lap, her little claws hooked into his slacks, had woken up, and promptly launched herself, shrieking with feral, quasi-demonic rage, at Doctor Wells. Cisco caught her, holding her to his chest and whispering soothingly, but she fought tooth and claw, spitting, her fur fluffed up.

"What is wrong with you, kitty?" Cisco asked her, trying to smooth his kitten's fur with a calming hand. Fuzzwhump refused to be calmed. She twisted and writhed as only kittens can, actually drawing blood as she tried to get out of Cisco's hold. He yelped and let go in surprise, and the grey tabby took her chance.

Doctor Wells stopped her before she could attempt to claw his face off, deftly gathering her in his hands. " Hey," he said, a stern parent to an unruly child. "No. No. That is uncalled for." She didn't seem to understand, her hummingbird heart pounding as she growled. Cisco reclaimed her, clicking his tongue.

"I don't know what's gotten into her, Doctor Wells, I'm sorry." He squeezed a little tighter, trying to make sure Fuzzwhump would stay put. " Maybe she's sick, or got into the catnip, or something."

"Ugh-guys? What's going on?" Barry's voiced echoed.

" Fuzz might have tried to rip out Doctor Wells' throat, but it's cool."

"Not...where am- did you say the morgue?" Barry asked again, clearly less worried about the kitten chaos and more focused on his apparent memory failure.

"Yeah, silent alarm, go." Cisco called, taking Fuzzwhump into another room. " You got this, Doctor Wells? I'm gonna try and get her calm."

"Wait what? Also, morgue, um-the coroner's dead again and ok, this is really-" Barry started as Cisco left, Wells waving him off.

"Ok, Fuzzmonster, what on earth was that? What happened?" Cisco cuddled her, but was careful and wary. She was little, but her claws were still sharp, and he liked his flesh intact, thank-you very much.

In the back room, she seemed to ease a little, still mewing frantically and licking at every inch of his hands and arms she could reach, wrapping her paws around his arm and clinging, clearly terrified.

"Ok, it's ok. Calm? Calm. Chill, Fuzzie, chill. It's ok. I'm right here, ok? Calm down."

As if finally able to hear him, she circled in his arms, pressing her face into his shirt above his heart and shuddering. Cisco supported her with one arm, stroking her back and smoothing out her feathery plume of a tail with the other, still murmuring assurances.

"We'll get Auntie Caitlin to check you out, 'kay, little diddle? Make sure you aren't sick."

Fuzzwhump looked up, meeting his eyes, and blinked them slowly, a purr vibrating her entire body.

For a heartbeat, it felt alien, and wrong, almost terrifying, but Cisco shook off the feeling, and hugged his cat close. She snuggled into the hug, burying her face in the crook of his elbow, her heart pounding against his.

The humans were busy talking about something. Fuzzwhump, after reassuring herself that her human was very much alive, had wasted little time in locating Freida and Georgia

(I'm telling truth! The wheel man killed him!)

(Fuzz, I think you need to stay out of Nyoom's catnip. Sco is fine. The wheel man is fine. You had a bad dream.) Frieda chided.

(Did not!)

(Did so) Georgia swished her tail into Fuzzwhump's face. The younger kitten sneezed and batted it down.

(DID NOT I SAW IT. HE GOT UP AND HE KILLED SCO)

(Fuzz, chill. Sco is alive. You had a bad dream or something. Calm down.) Faulkner licked a paw and swiped it over his ears.

(No! I know what saw! You have to warn him! Use the box! Tell him! Don't go down to the place, because the—the wheel man walked and, and, and…) Fuzzwhump shrilled.

(This is a waste of time. I'm going to take a nap.) Schrodinger announced, stalking off through a wall.

(Fine, don't listen. I'll just—I'll just protect him myself.) Fuzzwhump chirped angrily, turning her back on her family.

(Aaaawww, Fuzzwhump,) Nyoom called after her, but the grey kitten ignored it, going in search of her human, intent on never letting him out of her sight again.

There was another human in the Box Room, and he was loud. Sue was unhappy, loud people always made her human upset and no one seemed to understand how hard she worked to help him calm down. So she got Peanut Butter to let her into Prisbow's box, and then Peanut Butter went to find someone to make the Loud Man be quiet. She curled into the circle of Prisbow's arms, purring and rubbing her face against his cheek. He sighed against her and scratched her ears the way she liked.

When she left at last to get some lunch, she saw Murgatroyed in with the Loud Man, who had calmed somewhat. Well, he was lying down and Murgatroyed was sprawled across his chest, and Murgatroyed was big, the biggest of them all, so that probably helped. Sue purred, and made her way up to the big room for some food, and the intent to bring a jingle ball down to Prisbow, and maybe one of those toy mice for Murgatroyed and the Loud Man. Then again, Peanut Butter's Girl had shrieked when she'd first seen one of the mice, so maybe that was a bad plan.

Sco was talking to the Soft Girl, holding Rita in one hand while Fuzzwhump stood guard on his shoe. He ran his other hand through his long hair, and seemed upset. Sue wished she could understand more people talk, but the sounds didn't make sense in her head, so she purred and left, with a backwards half-glance at Fuzz that said (see, he's fine) but Fuzzwhump either didn't see, or just ignored.

There was a pack of kitty treats on a table within easy leaping distance. Sue ate half of them, then jumped back to the floor before anyone saw.

Barry sighed in relief, back in his office. Well, not quite relief, things were still—well. What had Doctor Wells said, after learning what he'd done? That Time itself would find a way to replace any tragedy? But surely this time, he'd be expecting something, and it couldn't be worse than Joe missing-maybe-dead, and Captain Singh paralyzed and maybe brain-dead, poor Raoul wailing like a bansidhe in the back office, and a tidal wave about to destroy everyone and everything. Besides, it wasn't like he'd had much of a choice. He couldn't just sit by and let things like that happen to his family, not if he could do something. He wished he'd brought Nyoom back to the station with him, but she'd been running around the accelerator, and though he could have caught her, it was better she wear herself out now than at two AM.

He checked the door, then sped through one of the case files on the desk, filling out the paperwork in record time, even for him. The next two took a little more time, even with the fixed up/ borderline new equipment Sava had wranged for him, but he still finished them before his coffee had even had time to cool. It was a good distraction from whatever danger might be brewing. Pleased with the work—and the proof that the suspect in custody for the Stevenson murder was, in fact, innocent, as Eddie and Goldie suspected—he carted the files down to Sava's office.

She was on her phone. "As I was saying, Ms. Page," she said, and Barry paused, sure he recognized the name. "I just want to meet with you and, ah, Eevee, was it? There's a few of us, and I'm sure you must have noticed something…odd. No, I assure you, I have no intention off—wait, hello? Hello? Did she just hang up on me? Rude." Sava hung up the corded phone and scowled, then noticed Barry.

"Ah, Mr. Allen. The Stevenson case?"

"And the Manning and Dahl—Dahle—"

"Dahlheimer, yes, good. Go get yourself a, a coffee or something. I'm sorry, this is rather important and—"

"Oh!" Barry remembered suddenly. "Kenna, right? Who adopted…"

"Yes. Either she hasn't noticed anything odd about her kitten, or she's hiding something. I wonder if I could send Detective Thawne and that Lie Detector of his over…hmmm. Oh, you're still here. You can go. I'm sure there are other things you can work on."

Barry beat a hasty-but-still-normal-human-speed retreat.

"Cisco, I don't think this is a good idea, I really don't." Caitlin said as Cisco put a large ribbon-bow on Rita's head. The grey mackerel tabby purred, then blinked out of sight and back again, so that for a moment all that was visible was the orange bow. Cisco grinned.

"No, no this is the greatest idea."

"Were giving your brother a metakitten," Caitlin stated flatly. "And not just any metakitten, but the one that turns invisible. How on Earth is that a good idea? He'll lose her and panic."

"Exactly." Cisco looked smug.

"Cisco!"

"What? We'll come and get her day after tomorrow, because she'll be too much for him to handle, and I'll finally be able to show my folks I'm better at something. And, Rita gets to cause some chaos. It's a win-win."

"Cisco, that's not very nice." Caitlin turned the judgmental glare she mostly used on Barry when he didn't want to seek medical treatment on Cisco, but he shrugged.

"Neither's Dante."

"I can't believe you." She grumbled, but in the end sighed. "Oh, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."

They got Rita settled, and Cisco packed a box with some stuff—kitten food, one of the cat beds, a litterbox, and set off in Caitlin's little car. Fuzzwhump poked her head out of Cisco's pocket, then ducked back in. She far preferred the padded basket on the front of his bike to traveling by car. Rita didn't seem to notice, curled up asleep. The tip of her tail ruffled the cellophane bow.

"Hey, man, glad you could make it."

Caitlin guessed that the man was Cisco's brother, and she could see the resemblance, somewhat. She also understood why Cisco had wanted moral support. Dante Ramon had a sort of aura of smug superiority, and if she had been a cat, her hackles would have been up. Fuzzwhump and Scrap, curled up inside pockets, both seemed to pick up on the unease both of their humans felt, hearts racing, but Rita simply looked around, curious, and raised a spotted grey paw to her bow.

"Yeah, of course," Cisco said, trying to inject feeling into it and failing rather miserably. He'd rather be just about anywhere.

"Hi," Dante turned his gaze on Caitlin without giving Cisco a second look. "I'm Dante."

"This is my friend, Caitlin," Cisco started, but Caitlin finished the sentence herself.

"We work together, at S.T.A.R Labs. And this," she gestured at the bundle is Cisco's arms.

"Is Rita. Cisco handed over the kitten as Dante's eyes widened in surprise.

"Um." Dante blinked down at the kitten, who clung to his jacket sleeves.

"Happy birthday." Cisco grinned wickedly. "Unless you don't think you can handle a cat? We've got stuff for her. I've been taking care of—what, two dozen? So we figured you could probably handle just one."

Caitlin snorted internally, guessing Cisco's ploy. Dante looked affronted.

"If you can, I'm sure it can't be that difficult" he said a little snappish. Caitlin put the box of supplies under a table, shaking her head. This was probably morally wrong in some capacity, but she didn't care.

The rest of the party went no better. Cisco's mother hardly noticed Cisco's presence, Cisco tugged at his shirt collar as if looking for an escape, and both Scrap and Fuzz got increasingly agitated. Rita, on the other hand, lapped up the attention of all the Ramon cousins and family members, and practically glued herself to Dante, having decided he was hers.

Caitlin wondered if Metakittens imprinted on people, like ducklings, or werewolves in poorly-written romance novels that she had definitely never read, nuh-uh, no way. (She'd been stuck on a 12 hour flight and desperate, ok, so sue her). It would make sense.

Rita even sat on his lap as Dante gave an "impromptu" recital, rattling through music Caitlin thought sounded vaguely familiar, but couldn't name.

"I was a little rusty," Dante told her, smiling to show off suspiciously white teeth, looking like a model in a commercial for dentists. It was disconcerting.

"Well, If that's what you sounded like rusty," she laughed, more because Scrap was squirming and wow, she could understand why Cisco hated family get-togethers. "I can't imagine what you sound like when you've practiced."

"For you," he said and Caitlin had a flash of panic-turned-annoyance. "I'd practice morning, noon, and night."

Cisco laughed sharply. "That would mean getting up in the morning."

Dante turned to him, that smug, plastic smile still very much in place. "So, Still working at S.T.A.R. Labs? Too hard to find another job?"

"I wasn't looking. I like my job."

"And we need him. Without him, we couldn't do …what we do," Caitlin hesitated, stumbling over her explanation. Dante smirked.

"He's loyal. Just like a dog."

Cisco tensed. Scrap and Fuzzwhump tensed. Caitlin braced herself.
"Aw, don't be like that mi hija." Dante chuckled, and Cisco turned on his heel and left.

""Happy birthday." Caitlin made to follow.

"You don't have to go. Left him sulk. He'll get over it." Dante reached for her hand

"Actually, I do. Have to go. Right now. Also? I'm engaged. Goodbye." Caitlin stalked out, her head held high.

"What a jerk. I hope Rita makes him think that piano's haunted before we take her back." Caitlin announced as she unlocked her car.

"Yeah, me too."

"Maybe we should have brought him Spike instead," Caitlin said thoughtfully.

"I thought you didn't approve of using metakitties as "petty" revenge." Cisco looked over at her.

"That was before I met your brother."

"Told you so."

Iris West tapped her pen against a stack of files Mason had left on her desk, trying to figure things out. Everyone—everyone—was acting so odd. Barry, Eddie, Mason, Linda the sports reporter, who had just come over to say that Barry broke up with her—not that Iris knew why—her dad, her cats.

She needed answers. And she needed them now. Maybe she could get some out of Barry during their lunch date for the next day. If not, she'd need to call in the big guns.

Sco had left her behind. Fuzzwhump sat at the door of the apartment, dejected and afraid. Sco had made a phone call and then he's left her behind, and that was Not Right. He took her everywhere. He always took her everywhere. This was not right.

She mewed her frustration at the door, she clawed at it and howled and threw herself at it, but it never budged. What if he was going to the Downstairs Room, with the big machine and the Wheel man killed him? He shouldn't go anywhere without her, didn't he listen, didn't he know there was danger?

No, he didn't. No one did, no one believed her, and now Sco was in trouble and she knew it. The clock on the table—she knew what that was- flashed numbers, the patterns familiar enough that she knew it was Night time, even if light came from the windows. There were streetlights out there. Sco always came back before it got too late. He had his bike, or the Nyooman brought him home, and he wasn't back yet.

Sometimes Frieda could hear her, if she thought really hard, Fuzzwhump remembered. Even from far away. So she'd try that. Maybe they'd listen, now.

She sat, tail curled around her paws, tired but too worried to sleep, by the door, so that as soon as Sco came back she could chew on his ankles and remind him not to do that ever again.

Fuzzwhump waited until her pads ached and she fell over, but the door didn't open.

Hah. Sorry not Sorry.