The scolding had quite the opposite effect of actually shaming Eobard. He gave Cisco a crooked grin, oddly pleased by that little rant. Any little sign of the Cisco he’d known was promising. “I know what the limits are. I’ve been treading them for the last fifteen years.”
He sobered up at the next statement, though. “I’d say the wristbands are an accomplishment.”
Cisco was a terrible liar, and always has been. Of all the bad habits he could have picked up from Eobard over the years, at least dishonesty hadn’t been one of them. (Though it was unfortunate that wrecking cities was.) “I fail to see how shooting you helps.” Cisco responded best to praise and positive reinforcement. Terrorizing the boy was never going to get anyone anywhere useful, and it was unnecessary besides.
“I asked him to train me, and apparently that included shooting at me.” He sighed, looking up at the man. “It was a good idea at the time, okay?” Cisco felt the man’s eyes on him, and he let his gaze drift away from Eobard as his hand found the texture of the scar through his shirt. Thoughts began racing through his mind, and he zoned out staring at the wall a few feet from the man.
One minute he was staring at the wall, and the next minute there was an intense pain shooting though his head. The pain stretched from temple to temple, and Cisco immediately dropped the screwdriver in his hand and squeezed his eyes shut. As the screwdriver hit the ground, his hands flew up to cover his ears. It felt like he could hear everything at the same time. There was a sharp taste of metal in his mouth. His head was screaming, and Cisco was doing all that he could not to scream out in pain, as that would likely make things worse.
Cisco backup 