Barry finds out your secret, you come find my past self. The voice of the man who called his past self Cisco echoed in Wally’s mind. Wally had many theories why Barry had forgotten about how Wally went back in time, but there was one more predominant than the others. Once Barry did find out about who he was, he realized his theory was correct. Cisco had to be the one to remove Barry’s and everyone else’s memory. It was time for Wally to officially meet Cisco.
That morning, Wally got up early to wait in Jitters, where he had seen Cisco come in multiple times. Cisco entered the store a few hours later, much to Wally’s relief, who was trying his best not to fall asleep. Once Cisco got his drink order, Wally decided it was the best time to approach him. “Hey can I talk to you? In private?”
Cisco was beyond excited for his morning coffee and people watching. He saw a young-ish man approaching him; someone he’d seen around the city but never got around to having an actual conversation with. “Uhm, yeah sure.” Cisco said, grabbing his coffee cup from where he was sitting and followed the man.
Of all the reactions he’d expected, an outright refusal to believe in reality had not been among them. Eobard blinked. “All right. Your imagination brought you a present.” He waggled the gift at Cisco enticingly. “I missed you.”
He knew that probably wasn’t what Cisco wanted to hear. Of all the young potential that he has fostered, Cisco might be his favorite. He wasn’t in a hurry to sacrifice the younger man again. “This time, I’m not here to take. I’m here to give.”
“A present? Really?” Cisco scoffed, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t know whether to be grateful you don’t want to kill me or scared that somehow you’re back. Probably both. Yeah. Both would be good.” He held his hand out for the gift. “What is it, anyway?”
Cisco shook the small box, examining it in his hands. “Give and not to take? Sorry if I find that hard to believe.”
“Oh Cisco, do you really think you can take me?” she didn’t even reach for her gun. She was sure she could handle him easily. “I’m not just a pretty face and I don’t need a gun.”
“I’m sure I can take you, Lisa.” Cisco said, loosening his grip a little. “Who ever said you were just a pretty face?”
Helena smirked and withdrew her hand. There he was, the boy on paper. She thanked the waiter in Italian again as he put down her Sicilian soup and Cisco’s meal in front of them. “I take it you don’t have sex that often?” She asked teasingly as she delicately placed the napkin in her lap.
“Not really. I prefer to sit and have movie marathons and cuddle.” Cisco said, his face blushing. He quickly took a bite of his pasta before he could say anything stupid.
“Cisco.” Eobard quickly raised one hand in a placating gesture, then awkwardly realized that had been the killing hand. Not that he expected Cisco to remember that detail–different timeline–but he still hastily lowered the hand. He’d been leaning against one of the desks, and then he stood until he remembered his significant height advantage over Cisco. He sat back down, reducing his physical threat as much as possible.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he sighed. His eyes avoided the spot in Cisco’s chest that his hand had pierced. It wasn’t often he experienced regret, but this was a death that had caused a lot of trouble. “I assure you, my grievances are with Barry, not you.” He noticed that he was gesturing with that hand again, so he tucked it under his leg just to keep still. “Can we talk?”
Cisco cringed as the man raised his hand ever so slightly. “How are you here right now? I thought….” Cisco trailed off. It’s just another dream. A side effect of these powers. I’m just reliving it, again. Cisco turned around and rubbed his eyes, hoping to rid his mind of the memories. “It’s just my imagination.” Cisco muttered, turning around to face the man once more.
“All you’ve ever did was lie to me, Wells. What else do you want to tear away from me?” Cisco held a hand near to his heart, as if he could protect it. Eddie shot himself so you would die. How the hell is this even remotely possible? He thought to himself. Cisco could feel a mild headache coming on, so he walked gingerly to his desk and rummaged through his drawer until he found his aspirin. He sat down and stared Wells down. “Fine.”
“I’ll need to give you an intimate tour of my hotel room. More specifically my bed.”
Cisco almost choked on his wine. “Your bed?” He sputtered, wiping his mouth with his free hand. “That would be quite the adventure, I think.” Cisco turned his head to see the waiter coming with their food. “Look! There’s dinner.”
Cisco backup 