But Mousie, thou art no thy lane

In proving foresight may be vain

The best laid schemes o' mice an men

gang aft agley

An' lea'e us naught but grief an pain

for promis'd joy

-To A Mouse, Robert Burns

"Cisco?" It was the first time Harry had used his actual name, and the tone was as close to an "I'm sorry for being such a dick" as anyone would ever get out of the man. Cisco blinked, the edges of grey and blue fading already.

"How is she?" Harry asked the question, but everyone was thinking it, and Cisco could feel the weight of worry pressing down on him.

"Alive," he croaked. "I need paper." A pad of it and a pencil were pressed into his hands. Cisco didn't even wait to reach his desk, just sank to the floor beside Harry's dropped jacket, scribbling and sketching. Ever since the night they'd failed to trap Zoom, Worry for Jesse's safety had sky rocketed, and Cisco focused as much energy as he could on trying to vibe into the other earth. "She's—scared. I saw her face. But she's not dead. She's mostly just scared." He didn't mention how thin she looked, the way he could tell even in the blue tinged greyscale of his visions that her wrists had to be red and raw.

"Oh, my brave Jesse," Harry breathed, and it seemed for a moment like he wanted to hide his face in his hands. Cisco couldn't meet those steel-blue eyes, worry and panic in them like storm clouds, so much like the way he'd seen Eobard's eyes when he'd tried to save them all from Blackout. It was still too much. So he focused on every detail he could remember, all he'd seen, the texture of the walls, the dim lighting, the cage, the ladder in the background, the—Cisco dropped the pencil.

No.

"Can you—" Harry held out the jacket again. Cisco hadn't seen him pick it up. "Can you get her a message? Can you tell her we're coming?"

Cisco shook his head, a gaping pit in his stomach. "It doesn't work like that. But. I think—I saw…" he chewed the pencil, soft wood giving way easily. "I think I know where she is."

"Where?" Barry demanded from his wheelchair, only a heartbeat behind Harry's own cry, and cisco went rigid with a flash of fear as Harry's hand gripped his arm. With it came a memory—not a vision, but painful all the same, Eobard gripping his arm and telling him to never make another weapon, shaking him with strength Cisco hadn't realized was more than just a firm grip.

He gasped, and shook free. "You won't like it, but—" Cisco glanced up and around until he saw Iris. "It looks like where Eobard took—took Eddie. Harry, you said that out STAR Labs looks just like yours?"

"Except for the part where yours blew up, yes, why—no." His face went ashen. "No, I looked. I looked everywhere, I—"

"Service tunnels, underneath the Accelerator," Cisco said. "Guys, I think I have an idea."

Jesse shrank back as far as the ropes would let her when she heard footsteps, even if it was ridiculous. Zoom was never slow, there was never any gap between hearing and seeing. But Zoom had allies, sort of. Other victims, mostly, she figured, other metas. How many of them had he learned the identities of by way of her father's tech? She shuddered, the movement sending another jolt of pain through her arms.

But there was no lightning, no blue-black blur like an oil slick, just a—a kid, maybe a little older than her, dark hair, dark eyes. His grim face lit with a grin when he saw her.

"Hey, don't freak, kay? I'm not gonna hurt you." He pulled a rather large set of bolt cutters from a bag on his back and started working on the door. Jesse's heart pounded.

"Who are you?" She was safe, for now, or Zoom would have killed her already. She knew that. But this guy? He wouldn't have time to twitch before Zoom…

He grinned, almost cocky, but she could tell there was fear behind the smile. "I'm Luke Skywaker, I'm here to rescue you."

The door open, he stepped in, cutting through her bonds like they were made of wet crepe paper. " I can't run, you—you have to get out of here, he'll kill you!" she croaked, her voice tight with fear as much as dehydration as he helped her stand—her legs ached horribly, not used to supporting so much of her, and her hands tingled with bloodrush.

"It's ok, I've got some friends keeping him busy in my world, and there's a place we'll be safe." He half pulled, half carried her after him.

"Your world? Did—Did my father send you?"

"Yeah, yeah, he did, he said to tell you he's proud of his Jesse quick. Now, c'mon, this way." He led her up the ladder and through a wide tunnel that looked too familiar. She hadn't seen where Zoom had taken her all those days—weeks?—ago. Suddenly it dawned on her, but she didn't stop her hobbling run.

"This – this is—is Star—labs?"

"Yeah," her rescuer said, breathless himself. He fumbled at a doorway, punching in some kind of code. The door opened, and they were off again, tearing down the empty hallways of the basement, the air stinging her bloody wrists, lights all blurring—God it had been so long since she'd been able to run, to breathe freely.

Something sounded—not an alarm, just a tinny voice she couldn't make out. The young man grabbed her shoulder, pulling her faster "End of this hallway, there's a room with a big blue glowy thing, go through it, there'll be a big platform with a button in the middle. We just have to get to that."

Before they reached the door, blue lightning swept through the room. Jesse cried out as she was shoved forward, closer to the door.

"Jesse, Run!"

She heard a crunch and a cry and threw the door open, straining to reach the blue light. She didn't make it.

A valiant effort, little hero. What a shame. Zoom's voice pulsed in every bone, in Jesse's very blood, as a clawed hand gripped her throat. She fought, but what little energy she'd had she'd used. If only they'd been a little faster. I still need you, pity. The world swirled blue and she was back in the cage, dumped on the floor like a sack of grain, her head cracking against the back bars, too dizzy to do more than blink, and not cry.

This is a lesson. Learn it. There is no escaping from me.

And then the demon thing was gone, and Jesse fought down a sob, looking around her desperately hoping that at least—

"Luke!" He was on the ground just outside her prison, the door fixed, welded or soldered into place. "Oh—oh god—are you ok? Shit," her father never liked cursing but he wasn't here, "are you bleeding?"

He turned his head, his eyes glossy with pain. "Jes-se. 'M sorry wasn't f'st enough." His voice was wrong, wet, and in the scant light she could see the blood on his lips, and Zoom's booming words echoed—a lesson. Oh god, no.

She reached out as far as she could, but he was out of reach. It wasn't like she could do anything, anyway, his ribs looked like they'd all been crushed, there was so much blood, how had she not seen it before? Tears streaked down her cheeks. "You said you had friends, they'll come for us, right?"

"Zoom's wrong," he coughed. The smile returned, dim.

"No, hold on, just hold on." She reached again, and his fingers twitched, spreading just enough for her to touch them. He jolted, and the smile brightened.

"There's escape. M'friends. Th'll get you out." His fingers dropped away, his eyelids flickered shut, open, shut again. "Tell 'em. M'sorry, but. M'idea. No blame."

Jesse sat, numb and horrified, jamming her shoulder farther against the bars, trying to reach him.

"Padre nuestro… que estás en... los cielos," he stumbled over the words, unable to say more. She didn't recognize them, didn't understand.

"Please, hold on," Jesse whispered. "Luke, don't—"She couldn't rip her eyes away from him. He couldn't have been more than 23? 24? And he was—oh, god, he was dying because of her, because he'd wanted to help her. The shallow movement of his chest slowed, and the sound of labored breathing lapsed into silence.

Jesse wept.

Jesse shivered in her cell. She'd have been grateful she was no longer chained to the top bars of her cage, except that she refused to be grateful for anything Zoom did. Holding on to that anger was one of the only things keeping her going in the dank little prison, though she wondered if she'd be able to just curl up and die. Zoom still wanted her alive, she didn't like the thought of to what lengths he might go to keep her that way.

The other thing she still clung to was the faint hope of promised Rescue. She'd been so sure that no one would come, with the Flash and her father gone to another world, sure that no one would ever find her. But then someone had come, someone had found her, and she knew that if she lived to be old (not that she was counting on it) she'd never forget his face, all lit up when he found her, or how still and calm it had been, after. He'd been so insistent that his friends would come for her, even if it was too late for him. His friends, her father.

If she hadn't asked questions, if she'd just run, would those two, three seconds have made a difference? Could they have really gotten away? She knew they could have. Just a few seconds, and she'd have been safe, Luke wouldn't have died. He'd died trying to help her, and she hadn't been enough to get out. Zoom'd taken him—she refused to think the words 'his body' a little while later, and that had been two, three days ago. Maybe longer, maybe not, she'd never been great at judging time and there was no way to really know. His friends hadn't come yet, but she gripped the hope, the prayer, that they would as tightly as she gripped her cell bars.

Luke Skywalker. She'd remember that name, she'd carry that with her, even if she died down here. It was the only thing she could do, really, besides sit and wait, or stand and wait, or cry and wait.

She heard footsteps, and flinched. "Get hold of yourself," she whispered. "Get hold of yourself, Quick, you aren't going Crazy, not now, not when you lasted this long. You aren't hearing anything." Because Zoom's footsteps never reached her until he did, gleaming iridescent blue and black like a crow's wing, and there was no rushing bright lightning now. Just footsteps. Maybe she was only imagining things—knowing she was so close to STAR Labs was probably it, she could imagine Charlie the security guard's steps, heavier on his left foot than his right, or Helen the secretary's clicking heels, or the way her father always had perfect form like he was performing on camera with each step except when he ran. It sounded like those steps now, but faster than she'd ever heard them. Her breath froze in her chest.
"Jesse?" a familiar voice called.
"Daddy!"

It was overwhelming to say the least. The other STAR Labs, through the portal, was emptier, smaller, but still chaotic. She hadn't wanted to let go of her father, scared that if she did, it would melt away, just a dream, and she'd wake up cold and alone. But a woman with long brown hair and sad eyes and a tight smile eventually pried her away, checking her over for injury and setting her up with a mug of watery tea and a small meal.
"We don't want you to get sick after so long of…well. Start with this, and we'll see," she stopped, a shuddering sigh escaping her. "I'm sure you're tired, but I'll tell Harry—Dr. Wells—if you feel up to-?"
Jesse swallowed the tea, half burning her throat in the need for warmth. She nodded.
"Thank you, uh—"
"Caitlin. Dr. Snow, but Caitlin is—fine." She excused herself.

Her father didn't leave her side for the rest of the day—she thought it was day, there was real light coming through high windows.
"How did you find me?" She asked, finally. "I thought no one would, but then…"
His face darkened, and Jesse knew it was the expression he put on when he was trying to hide sorrow with anger or resentment or frustration, but he softened at the concern in her eyes. "Jesse, I never stopped trying. I'll always find you, no matter how long it takes. It's—later. We'll talk later. You need to rest. Eat. Get your strength back."
Jesse was very tired. For so long, all her energy had been focused on staying alive, on holding on, and finally, her body had decided she was safe. Still, her sleep was not easy, and her dreams were haunted.
~break~

She noticed in the first two days of freedom that aside from asking how she felt, Dr. Snow and a young man—older than her by a handful of years, maybe, who had to be the Flash here, always seemed to be busy elsewhere. They seemed glad she was ok, but distant. And she knew why. She'd gotten their friend killed. Shame flooded her, sitting on her hospital cot, swinging her legs. She should have said something, offered sympathy—did Luke have a family? A girlfriend, or boyfriend or brothers and sisters? Or was this his family? She was still meant to be on bedrest, but her father had ducked out, in some sort of disguise, for coffee, so she slipped from the room, warm despite the thin bedclothes she'd been given.

The main room was nearly empty, but she spotted Dr Snow at one desk, the Flash at another, examining some bit of equipment. The Flash looked up first, just as she started to clear her throat; Dr. Snow was not far behind.

"Do you need something?" the Flash asked, not unkindly, worry wrinkling his forehead. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I just wanted to say…thank you. For everything."
"It's kind of what we do." The Flash shrugged. "I'm Barry, by the way."
"You should be resting, you're still weak." Dr. Snow started to stand, but Jesse shook her head.
"I'm fine. I feel fine. I just…I wanted to tell you I'm sorry." Barry offered her a chair even as her legs wobbled. She sat heavily. "I'm so sorry about Luke."
Barry looked at Dr. Snow. Dr. Snow looked at Barry.
"What?"
"Your friend? The one who tried to save me. I was too slow, and Zoom—it was all my fault, that he's dead, and—"
Barry closed his eyes, pained. "We wondered. What happened, when you didn't get back. But then Zoom…brought his bod—him here. As a warning." He swallowed hard. "What happened wasn't your fault, Jesse. I was the one who should have done a better job keeping Zoom busy."
Jesse swiped a sleeve across her streaming eyes and nose, emotions she'd kept bottled up for so long finally breaking through the glass dam she'd pinned them behind.
"He said—he said to tell you it was his idea, and "no blame." I don't know if he meant don't blame yourselves, or that he doesn't—didn't—blame you, but…"
Dr. Snow sniffed hard, her eyes redder than normal, but she nodded. "That sounds like Cisco. But, you called him…Luke?"
It was Jesse's turn to stare, and blink. "He said that was his name. Luke Skywalker."
Barry laughed, then, a small and broken laugh that had the barest edges of real mirth in it, growing warmer. Dr. Snow ducked her head, but the tremor that shook her shoulders seemed to be a suppressed giggle rather than tears, or maybe it was some of both.

"His name was Cisco Ramon. Francisco Ramon, but he just went by Cisco," Dr. Snow finally said. "Luke Skywalker is a character in a movie, a favorite movie. A hero. He was probably quoting. He does that—did that."

Barry's smile was sad. "It was—fun, watching movies with him. He'd quote half of the dialog, or talk about the history or trivia…"
"I'm sorry," Jesse managed again. In her head, she repeated the name, Cisco, Cisco, Cisco, attaching it to the bright smile, the worried eyes, the odd language he'd murmured in before he couldn't anymore.
"He wouldn't want you to blame yourself. Or any of us to. We still will, but…that was Cisco." Dr. Snow—Caitlin spoke softly. "He always thought everyone else was more important."

"I wish I could have known him," Jesse said.

"There might be a way you…sort of can." Barry chewed his lip before crossing to another desk, and pulling a case out. "I think it's time we had a STAR Labs Movie night again, it's been too long."

"Yes. After all, Cisco would be ashamed of us if we didn't." Caitlin nodded, seeing the name on the case. A New Hope.