Joe hadn't set foot in Star Labs for at least a month after Barry left. Left was a generous term, but he didn't know how else to think of it. His children were still alive, that was the only reason Joe was coping as well as he had been. Though, coping was a generous term.

Iris was only alive because of the sacrifice of an innocent man, and Barry was "missing" so completely that it wasn't much different than being dead.

His small victory today was finding that the lab was in better shape than he'd been expecting. Most of the monitors were overturned and electronic parts that he couldn't even name littered the floor. The control panel still stood, though it was impossible to tell the extent of the damage beyond burnt wires. But he had brilliant minds on speed dial who could fix this. If anyone wanted to.

Joe was standing in the main doorway of the cortex when he recognized the prickly feeling in the back of his mind; he wasn't alone. His cop's training kicked in faster than his logic; spinning on his heels to face the nearly dark room, Joe put a hand on his holster. It didn't make sense for anyone to be here, and he didn't felt like he was being watched, but he felt the presence of another person even before he could see them.

The pipeline had transferred its prisoners to Iron Heights soon after the storm had struck. So it should be just as abandoned as the labs now. It could be scavengers or looters just as easily as a scorned metahuman back for revenge.

Joe barely spotted the figure curled against the far wall, their outline almost invisible in the blackness.

Joe screamed, louder and longer than he'd like to admit, but there was only one witness. Joe's gun hand came up almost instantly. Then his sense of facial recognition caught up.

"Cisco?"

Cisco didn't lift his head from the floor, but he pulled the arm covering his eyes back to his side. He was curled on the floor against the far wall, out of the way of most of the debris, huddled in on himself like a child without a blanket in the cold.

"Ow." Cisco said, squinting up at him. "Could you please not? With the screaming?" Then he blinked a couple times. "Joe? The hell are you doing here?"

Joe shoved his gun back into its holster, hoping Cisco hadn't seen it. "I'm gunna ask you the same thing, and I'm going to expect my answer first."

Joe leaned over the smashed remains of a desk and flicked the far light switch. To his surprise a few of the overhead lights sputtered to life.

Cisco yelped and a hand flew to his face to cover his eyes. "Lights," he hissed, and Joe fumbled for the switch again. In the near darkness it was difficult to see, Joe's eyes adjusted slowly.

"You alright?" He asked as Cisco hauled himself into a sitting position against the wall.

"Simulations." Cisco mumbled, tugging fingers through his matted hair. "I needed to run some simulations, even more calculations, a bunch of science shit that I can't get done at home." He gestured to a cracked but faintly glowing monitor propped on a workbench in the corner. "That's the only thing in here I could get working."

The wiring job was sloppier Cisco's usual work, but the screen showed a slowly ticking progress bar.

"Simulations." Joe echoed, picking his way across the room, consciously trying not to look at the empty space where the Flahs's suit was once proudly displayed. "Cisco, what are you doing here?"

"Trynna get Barry back." Cisco whispered, not turning to look at Joe as he slid down the wall to sit next to him.

"No." Joe pulled out his best soft but stern parenting tone, but even with his slowly adjusting eyes he could see Cisco flinch at the drawn out syllable. "That's what you're running the simulations for. What on earth are you doing lying in the dark in a deserted lab all alone?"

When Cisco didn't answer he switched tactics. "Do you really think you can do it? Get Barry back?"

"No prison is perfect, even one in the speedforce. Really Joe, that's your fist question? Cause all week I've been asking myself if I should even try. If Barry even wants to come back. If letting him out will mess up the whole speed force or maybe wreck the whole city. Not do I think I can do it."

It was Joe's turn to take a moment of silence. He wanted to say of course Barry wants to come home. I know you can crack it, Cisco. Everything will go back to normal. But he can't get the words out.

"What are you doing here, Joe?"

"Left some case files." His voice quavered, even though it wasn't a complete lie. He did leave a stack of files here that night and hadn't come back to get them. The files were all of cases long closed by now.

"Wanted to see what was left?" Cisco spoke the words aloud that he couldn't. "It's not much."

"We could fix it." Joe whispered.

Cisco snorted, "Us and what army? Everyone is gone, Joe. I'm sitting right here talking to you, and to be frank I'm not even really here, you know?"

Maybe there were a couple of other things to fix, first.

"How are you doing, Cisco?"

Cisco laughed, one of the most genuine laughs Joe had heard from him since Caitlyn went AWOL. "How am I doing?" He mimicked the concern in Joe's voice. "How am I doing?"

"I'm trying here, Cisco. Really, how are you holding up?"

"Joe," Cisco sounded utterly defeated. "What day is it?"

It wasn't difficult to tell that Cisco had lost weight, even in the low light it was plain to see. Joe hadn't looked at him, really looked at the kid, for a long time. His hair was unwashed and knotted, skin covered in bruises that were mysteries to both of them, his hands were shaking.

Joe had seen Cisco pull Barry from the speedforce, open portals to places he couldn't even fathom, and bend space and time with the snap of his fingers. But right now he just looked frail. Of all things, he looked young. It was a shame, taking care of Cisco had always been Cisco's job, but sometimes that was too much for him to handle.

"What day is it?" Joe repeated, "Why? Is today supposed to be something special?"

"No." Cisco rubbed his forehead, "No, I just can't remember."

"Cisco..."

"Don't ask me if I'm alright."

"I won't, I won't kid, don't worry. Think we both know the answer to that."

Joe put a hand on his shoulder, feeling Cisco jolt at the touch. But Cisco was too tired to move away.

"What can I do?" Joe's usual list of remedies included homemade soup, ice-cream cones, and offering days off school as bribes. None of which would be a cure all in this situation.

"What would Caitlyn do, when things bad like this? What would you tell Barry to do, if he were here?"

Cisco shrunk away, burying his head in his hands.

"I know they're gone and that doesn't help, but you have to tell me so I can help you."

Cisco's answer was so quiet Joe almost didn't catch it.

"My meds," Cisco mumbled.

"For your headaches?"

"You could call them that."

"I remember what the bottle looks like, where are they?"

Cisco pointed, finger twitching, to where his backpack was shoved under one of the lab tables.

"Have you taken any today?" There was no dosing instructions for metahumans on the labels.

Cisco shook his head. "Dizzy," he muttered, sounding miserable. "I can't get up to get them."

"Alright, well that's an easy fix." Joe clapped his hands together, and regretted it instantly when Cisco flinched. He made up for it by crossing the room in three steady strides, shaking out the small bottle from the mess of papers and crumpled receipts.

He shook out two of the oval pills and held them out to Cisco.

He swallowed them dry as Joe read the label. "Oxcarbazepine?"

Cisco shrugged, pressing a thumb to his temple. "Yeah, they usually only prescribe it for people who have Trigeminal Neuralgia."

"What?" Cisco didn't have to look up to feel Joe's shock.

"Yeah yeah, I know. But Caitlyn dragged me to every single doctor this side of the boarder until she found one that would give me something strong enough to help."

"And will they help?" Joe knelt beside him again, searching his face for change.

Cisco checked his wrist, then remembered he didn't wear a watch in this timeline. "If I'm lucky. In about three hours, if at all."

"Jesus kid, you've been keeping this behind closed doors? I know Bar called your powers dangerous, but he didn't specific that they were mostly a danger to you."

"Relax Joe, things aren't getting worse, per say. You're just getting a front row seat."

"Oddly enough that fact doesn't help me relax." Joe pushed himself to his feet, "come on, you really should be at home, asleep."

"I won't argue with the sleeping part, but it doesn't matter where I am, it ain't happening."

"One problem at a time." Joe held out his hand. "Think you can walk?"

Cisco pulled a face, so Joe looped Cisco's arm over his shoulder, supporting most of his weight as they limped awkwardly to the exit.

"Come on, I've got the patrol car with me, I'll give you a ride home."

Cisco looked back at the still filling progress bar, then relented. "One condition, if I wake up in the back of a cop car and start freaking out, don't let me try and jump out, ok?"

Joe ran a hand over his thinning hair, "Cisco, have you ever been in a cop car before?"

"Not important. But I did vibe myself doing that once in some other universe when you tried to drive me to the drunk tank. It didn't really hurt and it scared the hell outta you which was hilarious." Cisco saw the look on Joe's face. "But I think once is enough."

"Yeah," Joe echoed in his best not amused voice. "Once is enough." He'd have a good laugh about the story, but now wasn't the time.

"Can you not turn the siren on?" Cisco mumbled, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Don't want your landlady to know you got dropped off by a cop?"

Cisco shook his head. "loud."

"Ok, don't worry, I'll put just the lights on and have you home as fast as a non-speedster can, alright?"

Instead of saying thank you, like Joe had been expecting, Cisco said "I know a good grief counselor."

"What?"

Cisco swallowed. "After Dante I saw a lot of them. I still have the numbers of a few good ones, if you want. Some of them do family therapy, if you and Iris and Wally..." He trailed off. "Or on your own, you all lost someone important, you should be talking to someone."

"Cisco," Joe sighed. "I find you passed out on the floor of a desolated star labs running tests by yourself after what, three days of no sleep?" he guessed.

"Two." Cisco corrected, like it drastically changed the situation.

"After days of no sleep and in so much pain you can't cross the room to get your medication and you're lecturing me about the importance of seeking professional help?"

"I absolutely am." Cisco's mouth pulled up in a defiant smile. "And I get to. My high horse is on the high ground. I still go to bereavement group."

Joe almost stopped walking. "You do?"

"Never stopped. After Dante...after Caitlyn, after Barry. You could come sometime, if you like. Not saying it fixes everything. I mean my two best friends are still gone probably never coming back and I can only afford a therapist every other week, and bereavement group is still just a bunch of strangers sitting in a gym plus a good way to accidentally end up vibing other people's worst memories. But still I go."

Despite his better judgement, the words tumbled from Joe's mouth. "Sometimes I wish you had the protective older brother you deserve."

"You don't get to talk about Dante." Cisco spat the words, venom in his tone, though the expression on his face barely changed.

"Alright, alright that's fair." Joe back peddled.

Cisco shook his head, a hiccup in his breath that could have been a laugh or a cough. "Nothing's fairs and you know it."

"Goddamnit, Cisco." Joe just sounded tired as he stopped in front of his car, opening the door so Cisco could wedge his way into the caged off back seat.

"What?" cisco sat for half a second, then immediately laid down across the cracked fake leather. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no. We, we should have helped you, long before this point I mean."

"You did." Cisco's face crumpled in concern, "You all did. I mean I—"

"Cisco," Joe cut him off, gently. "We should have done a better job. We...I shouldn't have let it get so bad before I came to check up on you."

"You came here to get some files." Cisco pointed out gently, even though Joe had left his stack of papers inside.

"Go to sleep, Cisco," Joe said, turning the keys in the ignition.