Shoulder to Shoulder (We share the Blame)

Caitlin Snow was the first to admit that there were many things she was not good at. Karaoke was one of them, fistfighting was another. But one thing she was good at was telling when the men in her life were being absolute boneheads.

The problem was that while she knew that Barry didn't blame Cisco for what Snart had done, and Cisco didn't blame Barry for his being in the situation, they both seemed to think the other did.
So it went for three days, Barry avoiding Cisco's eyes and the fading bruise, Cisco flat out avoiding Barry, finding something that had to be done to avoid confrontation.

Caitlin was sick of it. Wasn't it bad enough that they didn't know who to trust outside their little family, that she couldn't call her parents to tell them, "Hey, my fiance's alive but kind of on the run so, wedding might still happen eventually," or actually tell Iris the truth when pressed? If she had to sit through one more morning "I brought coffee?" and then silence "meal," she was going to scream. Honestly. She wasn't the only one with a brain here, was she?

She cornered Barry first first, running on the treadmill, offered him a calorie bar. He took it, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I need to get faster," he said. "I can't let what happened happen again."

"You still need to eat. And Sleep. And talk to us. All of us. We're a team."

"I know, I just…"

Caitlin frowned. "Barry Allen, you have to talk to him sooner or later, or this awkwardness is never going to go away, and how can we work together? He's the eyes and ears, you're the feet, isn't that what you guys aid last fall? You can't go running blind."

"I almost got him killed." Barry sank to the edge of the treadmill, flipping and twisting the unwrapped calorie bar. "What happened—that was my fault. If I'd been more careful—if I'd called to check after I left the bar, or if I'd stayed, or if I'd done something…But I didn't. I didn't even tear apart the city searching, I could have, I—but I didn't, and his family got hurt, Cisco got hurt, because I didn't do anything to…"

Caitlin put a hand on his shoulder. "Barry, you couldn't have known—"

"But I should have done something. He can't even be in the same room as me anymore, and I don't blame him. I'm supposed to be his friend, and I…"

Caitlin sighed heavily. "You think that's what it is? That he, what, wishes he'd never gotten involved in this?"

Barry didn't answer, but he didn't need to.

"That's not it, you know," Caitlin insisted. "I'd know. Believe me, I—I know. And for the record, I don't blame you for what happened in January. In case you've been thinking about that, lately." By the look in his eyes, she was sure he had been. Slowly, a plan formed. Probably not as neat or elegant a plan as Dr. Wells could come up with, or Detective West, but she'd see it through. "You've got to talk to him about this. I know he doesn't blame you."

"He should." Caitlin only hardly made out the whispered sentence. It sounded more defeated than anything she'd heard since Christmas.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Lunch. In an hour. That bar isn't going to get you all 120,000 calories you need, and don't you think I haven't noticed you're not eating as many as you should."

She found Cisco in the breakroom, bent on fixing the broken vending machine. Which was rather pointless since he had approximately six candy store's worth of junk food in his desk. She got right to the point.

"Cisco, if you do not talk to him, I swear to God, I'll—well, I don't know what, but remember April Fools, your first year at STAR?"

Cisco paled just slightly. "I thought that was Ronnie."

"Nope." Caitlin turned her best Doctor Glare on Cisco. "Look, you guys can't just keep avoiding each other."

"He doesn't want to talk to me. And I—I can't, Caitlin. I keep getting everyone around me hurt, and now—Snart knows, knows all Barry's weaknesses, knows mine." Cisco put down the wrench, looking at his hands as if the grease-spots were bloodstains he couldn't get out. "What if he hurts—Joe, or Iris, or you? What if he and his friends decided they want more toys or information? They know exactly who to go after. Because of me."

"That's not true. It wasn't your fault." Caitlin winced. She, and Barry, and Wells, they'd all offered that same platitude. Cisco shook his head.

"You didn't tell. He had you strapped to a bomb, Caitlin, but you were strong, and I caved." His shoulders slumped.

"Cisco." Caitlin put a hand on his arm, and he flinched away. She persisted, drawing him to the little table, the only one left with its three chairs and open side for Well's wheelchair. "Cisco, look at me. You're right, I didn't tell Snart anything. He never asked. He didn't want information from me, he just wanted a hostage. And he had your brother. That's not caving, Cisco."

"It doesn't matter why." Cisco laughed hollowly, a hard sound, too wrong and mirthless. "All that matters is that I did. I, I knew—I know what Snart can do, what he's done, and I just…I told him, who Barry is. It's the number one thing you Don't Do, and I did it." Cisco blinked, swallowing hard. "And now, a lot of people are going to get hurt—maybe not killed, but hurt, and it's my fault. And—Caitlin, the worst thing is that I know, I know I'd...I'd do it again."

Caitlin said nothing. It was more than any of them had gotten Cisco to say in days, and she noticed a flash of plaid over her friend's shoulder.

"Barry's the best friend I've ever hard, but—I couldn't watch them kill my brother, knowing I could have done something, even if it was...what I did. And I know that I—Wells said all it proved was that I loved my family, but he's wrong. It means I'm a shitty friend. His family will never be safe from Snart, not really, because of me. And, what am I supposed to do about that? Talk? Explain? There's no, no justification, or whatever, there's nothing I can do to just make it all better. Caitlin, you've seen the way he can't even stand to look at me. And I get it, I do. I betrayed everything we stand for. It's no wonder he doesn't trust me, after what I did. No wonder he hates me. He should." Cisco's shoulders heaved.

"You think that little of me?" Barry asked from the door way, his voice low. Cisco jumped in his seat, suddenly panicking.

"No, that's not what I meant, I—I didn't, I," Cisco's mind went blank, scrabbling for something to say. "If it was just me, I'd die first, I never would have—have—I-."

Barry cut him off, cursing himself. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I meant—you think I don't trust you? Because of what happens? You think I blame you?"

"You don't?"

"No! I told you, I put you in that position. I'm the one who didn't find you, who didn't get you out, I'm the one who let Snart get away with threatening you, hurting you. I should have been there—"

"-you didn't know—"

"—but I should have. You aren't a shitty friend, Cisco. If anyone is, I am."

"You're a hero, though. You save people. I just—"

"Also save people. I'm pretty sure I'd have been dead four minutes into this super hero thing without you. And I—I was so focused on other things on other angles, that I couldn't—that I didn't—find you. Cisco, I don't blame you, for any of this—I thought you blamed me, for putting you in that situation, for not getting you and your brother out."

Caitlin watched them, sighing inwardly in relief that her plot to at least get them talking face to face and play their desperate need to take blame off each other had actually worked.

"You thought I blamed you?" Cisco asked. "But I'm the one who put your family at risk—"

"No. You aren't. My family was already at risk." Barry sat down, folding his long legs awkwardly. "Joe's a cop who's arrested Snart, Iris is his daughter, and he's already targeted you without knowing who I am. You guys are my family. The whole point of keeping my name secret is to protect the people I care about. That means you guys, too. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you because of me." Barry cleared his throat. "So, I—I've been thinking, and, I want—something like this might happen again. And I want you to promise me—that you know that my name isn't worth your lives. And I wanted to promise you that I won't let you down like that. Either of you, ever again."

Caitlin reached out a hand, and Barry took it, then extended his other to Cisco. It might have been cliché, but it felt good, like comfort, and healing, and safety and promises made. They sat like that for a moment, before Caitlin detangled herself and stood, pulling a box from the company fridge.

"We didn't get cake at Dante's party, so I got us some," she said, plunking it on the table with a stack of napkins and plastic forks.

They fell on the bakery cake like wolves, crumbs and frosting everywhere. "Thanks, Caitlin," Barry and Cisco said. Caitlin nodded. She knew they didn't mean the cake.

"That's what friends are for."

I will never not have Cisco feels, y'all.