For Pennflinn. Happy birthday.

Shiner

1. Puckett

Cisco's eye throbbed, even with the cold compress the school nurse had given him pressed against it. Jake Puckett had cornered him at lunch, after Ms. Brenda had handed back the tests from the week before. The test Cisco had gotten an A+ and a gold star sticker on, while Jake had gotten an F and a letter to show his parents.
Since Jake had been sitting behind Cisco, he'd copied, and hadn't counted on Cisco fighting back in the best way he could. He'd actually been pretty proud of it-reading through each question, circling the wrong answer, but underlining a letter in the question that was the correct one, so once Jake turned in his test, he could go back and fix everything. It was one thing to demand Cisco hand over lunch money (Mama always made lunch anyway, so he never had lunch money to give, and Jake had something dumb that made him cry when he ate anything spicier than black pepper) or let him copy worksheets. But cheating on a test? Especially when it was a big test, for the whole unit, no way. So he'd made Jake think he was getting all the right answers, and the bully hadn't even guessed until today, before lunch. Cisco wondered if he should have let Jake get a couple answers more, but he'd been so indignant, and all that had gotten him was bruised pride and a black eye.

Ms. Brenda and the principal had said they couldn't do much. Cisco knew they were right. Jake had friends, and they said Cisco started it, so really he knew he should count himself lucky that he wasn't in trouble. Still, that didn't make his eye feel any better. At least his seat was gonna be on the other side of the classroom, so all he'd have to worry about would be homework assignments. He could handle letting Jake copy those, better than getting beat up.

"Paco?" Dante's teacher always kept everyone a minute or two late, so Cisco was already sitting on the bus. "What happened?"
Cisco thought about snitching for all of two seconds. "We played kickball in P.E."

Dante frowned. "Was the kickball a redhead named Puckett? That little pend-"

Cisco elbowed him hard. Even at school, Mama always knew when either of them (usually Dante) cussed. "It doesn't even hurt that bad," he said, lying.

"I don't care, I'm gonna kick his butt."

Cisco just hoped Jake didn't take it out on him, later, if Dante did. Big brothers couldn't watch your back all the time.

2. Prank

"Paco, what the hell!" Cisco glanced up from his history homework, working at the big kitchen table. Dante had been upstairs in their room, because he liked to play music while he worked, boring piano stuff that never quite fit right in Cisco's thoughts, making it hard to focus. The notes never lasted long enough. So Dante worked on his schoolwork, which he said was much harder even though Cisco had skipped two grades and was only one below him now, upstairs while Cisco worked downstairs. He didn't mind. It meant he could sometimes help make dinner, and then he wouldn't have to set the table. Usually, he and Dante could ignore each other from the time they got off the bus to mealtime, longer if Cisco had science club or Dante had a piano lesson and they took separate buses. Today was not 'usually.'

Dante thundered down the stairs, clutching his face with one hand and in the other-
"Hey, that's mine!" Cisco shot out of his chair to grab at the unfinished telescope.

"It punched me," Dante whined, holding it out of reach. He'd already hit growth spurt, Cisco was still short, even shorter than their Abuela.

"It's not done yet!" Cisco grabbed again. "Give it back."
"It doesn't even work! You can't see anything out of it!"

"That's the point," Cisco insisted. "It's from Harry Potter."
"Is not."
"Is too, there's more than one book and that," Cisco pointed "Is in number six, it just came out. The Twins made it and I'm gonna make stuff just like them."
Dante frowned. " That's magic stuff, there's no such thing."

Cisco stuck out his tongue. "Magic's just Science we don't understand yet, so I'm gonna understand it. Someday. So there."

"It punched me in the face. I've got a date on Friday!"
Cisco shrugged. "It'll make you look tough."

3. Star Labs

Dante hadn't been planning on going to Star Labs for the Particle Accelerator grand event, or whatever they were calling it. Cisco had mentioned it at the family gathering for dia de los muertos, one of the few times he ever came home or even called. It had seemed like a grudging invitation. Mama and Papa had already had plans to visit family for the holidays. Dante had snapped that he had work, but the store's holiday temporaries meant that he'd gotten a few extra days to himself, and this was one of them. He honestly hadn't meant to go, but he found himself joining the crowd, pushing past protesters. The white guy in charge of everything was giving a speech, pretentious, about how they were changing the future. Dante had rolled his eyes, but didn't leave. Cisco was on the stand, and that startled him. There had to be hundred of employees at this place, but only a half dozen were up on that platform. Less, if some of them up there were security or something. Why was Cisco up there like he was somebody important?

Dante let the crowd push at him, and then watched the group- Dr. Harrison Wells, he knew, and Cisco, and a few others, head inside to start the countdown. Well, that was that. He could go home, now, familial duty satisfied. What a waste of time-except it had been something almost like pride, seeing people taking pictures and excited for something that apparently Cisco had been a bigger part of than he'd let on. Or Maybe Wells had just stuck him up there for diversity. Either way, there wasn't much point in sticking around for some dumb science...thing. He still wasn't exactly sure what a Particle doohicky was meant to do. Something on the internet had mentioned black holes, but that was frankly ridiculous.

Still, he stayed, watching. A couple of cute girls nearby were talking about something presumably science related, giggling, and pointing to where Cisco had been standing. Sirens wailed in the distance, and Dante remembered earlier, cries of "thief" and hoped that there weren't pickpockets or anything, and that things didn't turn into a riot if there were. He was just starting to make his way through the crowd towards home when panic started to break out near the front, sweeping through the mass of people like a wave-an evacuation order, and suddenly rain.
Dante hardly had time to breathe as he surged against the crush of spectators, making his way not toward the slick streets and bus stations, but forward. Sure, he didn't get on with Cisco. They'd hardly spoken more than two sentences in twice as many months, but for all that-he had to find out what was going on. He had to. Cisco was in that building.

Someone tripped over uneven pavement, elbow clipping him in the face as they went down, and pain burst like the lightning that flashed in the low-hanging clouds. Someone grabbed his arm, and the other man's, helping them both to their feet.

"We have to go," their helper said, firmly. "Place is gonna blow, c'mon."

Dante ran, and in the four days that followed between the explosion and Cisco finally calling, his cowardice hurt worse than the yellow and purple bruise over his eye.

4. Snarts

Dante had decided about five minutes after he woke up on the unfamiliar carpet that this was officially the Worst Birthday Ever, far surpassing his 14th when everyone had come down with Norovirus, or the birthday they'd gone to a local zoo and a snake had scared him bad enough that he ran away and got lost. Childhood trauma was one thing, actively being kidnapped and used as leverage against his brother? Far worse. Even now, safe in a hospital bed, he couldn't help but stare at his bandaged hands, worried. What was to keep those creeps from attacking hm or Cisco again? What was to keep them safe? And-shit. Cisco'd told them who the Flash was. Hero or not, the guy couldn't be happy about that betrayal. He wasn't supposed to be walking around a whole lot, on account of it wasn't just his hands that had taken a beating. Two head injuries in 24 hours, after all. Really, his head didn't hurt any worse than the numb burning in his hands, but the doctors were more concerned about possible concussions than lasting damage to his hands. Apparently, he'd gotten to the hospital in time, which was a relief that burned like shame. He padded across the room softly-it was apparently paid for, by some company, which he really didn't understand- and caught sight of his own reflection in the window. The black eye, along with the cut along his temple that had been tended to, wasn't really visible, but it still felt puffy and obvious.

There would be no chance of sleep tonight, he was far too ramped up, too scared, but the nurses had encouraged him not to sleep by coming to check on him everyth twenty minutes or so. As if on cue, he heard movement at the door, and turned to let the night nurse see he was still awake. He hoped it was Rosaria, she was both cute and single.

It was not Rosaria.

"Sorry to startle you," the Flash said, closing the door. "I won't stay long."

"Um." Dante blinked, wondering if the head wound was more serious than anyone had let on. Then worry got the best of him. "Are you here to-what? Tell me to keep my mouth shut? Or-what? You can't be mad at my brother, none of it was his fault, you don't get to be mad at him when you didn't even rescue him. Us. But I swear, I didn't-I won't tell anyone about what really happened, or-"

"Uh," said the Flash. " No, no, god, no, I'm not mad at Cisco, or here to blame you or anything. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. And, well, apologize."

"What?" Dante sat on the very uncomfortable visitor's chair. "But-those people know who you-" he stopped suddenly. Maybe the Flash didn't know what Cisco had done?

"It was my fault you were in that mess. Wait, you think I blame-why does everyone think I'd blame Cisco? Do I really give off that kind of vibe? Nevermind. I just wanted to let you know you're not in danger. The Snarts won't bother you again, either of you. I'm sorry I didn't...you know." The Flash looked at Dante's bandage-wrapped hands, then touched his own eye, hidden by a mask. "I should go."

He did, leaving Dante to try to re-catch his breath long after the lightning had faded.

5. Piano

"Cisco, what happened?" Caitlin was used to patching up Barry. He came into Star Labs with bruised shins, broken fingers, sprained ankles, cracked ribs, the whole nine yards and another nine on top of that. A black eye was run of the mill for Barry, although typically something like that would heal in only a few minutes, and he was more careful lately to avoid showing up with minor injuries, choosing sleep and hot tea over Caitlin's mother henning. Cisco, on the other hand...Caitlin couldn't help but think of the last time he'd slipped into the cortex with a black eye. But no, she reminded herself that he hadn't been missing or in danger, texting her often all morning, so it wasn't anything like what Lisa had pulled. Still, worry rushed her to her feet, already reaching for her medkit.

Cisco flushed a little, and looked at his shoes. "Nothing?" he tried.

"Nothing." Caitlin repeated flatly. "Nothing happened to your eye, and I'm the queen of England."

"I mean it, Caitlin, it's nothing. Just leave it."

"Mmmmh, nope. Did someone jump you?"

"No!" Cisco shouted a little louder than he meant to. One of the glass vials on Caitlin's desk quivered a bit. "I can take care of myself, I'm not totally helpless."

"So I see," Caitlin sighed. "Cisco, it's ok. Are you hurt anywhere else? Do you want some ice?"

"No, and yes please." Cisco took the offered ice thankfully, and got to work on his latest project, while Caitlin eyed him suspiciously.
A few minutes later he looked up, and frowned. "You're staring."
"I'm worried," Caitlin corrected.
Cisco put down his tablet. " You can't tell Barry. Or Joe. or Anyone." He waited for Caitlin to nod and cross her heart, then went on. "It was a piano."

"A...piano. Cisco, is there a music- meta or are you just messing with m-"
"No, I was helping my brother move some furniture around because Mama's getting the carpets cleaned. There, you know. Don't tell Barry."
There was a whoosh.

"Don't tell me wh-aat happened to your eye?"

+1.

It had taken both of them in the end. Cisco had used himself as a distraction and Dante had hidden beside the door, weapon at the ready. Or as close to a weapon as he'd had. If only he'd taken up sports instead of music, a baseball bat or soccer cleats would have been much more useful than a book, though his battered hardcover tenth edition of Scholes's Oxford Companion to Music, a Christmas gift when he was twelve, packed more than a wallop. When their pursuer crossed the threshold, advancing on Cisco, cornered in the living room like a scared rabbit, Dante swung the book with all his strength, aiming the sharp corner at the man's face.

General Eiling had been expecting a great many things and had prepared for all of them: sonic blasts, the Flash's intervention, spontaneous explosions and/or flamethrower courtesy of Firestorm, advance weaponry from the labgeek. A hardcover book crashing into his eye was not any of those things. He dropped to his had taken their scant handful of seconds to steady a stance, and with Eiling downed, blasted him. He crumpled. For good measure, Dante slammed the book against the back of the man's head twice.

"I think he's unconscious, now," Cisco said.

"Uh-huh," Dante looked at the book, the army man on the music room floor, and at his baby brother. "Does he have back up?"

"Probably, but so do we," Cisco nodded to the red blur outside the window. "Good thinking, grabbing the book instead of trying to break off the table leg."

"Last time I did that we both ended up with black eyes." Dante wished Cisco hadn't brought up their kidnapping. Cisco may have had worse days and scarier nights, but Dante's life was boring and he wanted it to stay that way.

"Fair point," Cisco dipped his head and let out a long sigh. "Still, we did so much better than the last time this guy tried to kidnap someone."

"Not comforting." Dante was wondering exactly what was to happen next when the Flash sped in and then away, taking the man with him. "That's more comforting. Where's he taking-"

"Meh. Secret island prison, secret basement prison, I'm not sure."

"And we're back to not so comforting."

"You'll get used to it."

"I guess I'd better." Dante made a face. "So... this was your mess, so you get to tell Mama."

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