Guys I Think We Broke Time

Harry's reassurance helps a bit, if he's being honest. He trusts the man with his life, and he needs to be able to trust him with this.

The little headbutt gets his attention, and he's quick to scoop up the baby dragon. He feels guilty for not having searched him out after bringing Mick to STAR Labs. "Hey, Haircut," he says gently, petting his head. "It's okay, buddy. We're gonna make him better."

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The dragon burrows into the crook of Cisco's arm, looping his tail around his wrist and trilling at the attention.

Aha. Another piece of the puzzle.
But Harry files it away for the moment. They have more pressing matters to get to. "Start making the calculations for a controlled explosion. We've got speedsters who can help contain the damage."

He levels a finger at him. "Last ditch effort only. We have to try something more conventional first."

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Cisco gently perches the dragon on his shoulder so he has use of his hands, and erases the board again. Okay. Something to do. He feels better already.

"Last ditch effort," he promises. But he's going to make sure his math is perfect. If they don't find another answer, this one is going to work.

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"Last ditch." They need to talk to Snow and see if there's anything she might have discovered in medical that might help with their investigation. Some way to generate, but contain dark matter that won't wind up destroying the power grid or setting off some other catastrophe.

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"We need to nail down a timeline," he says. "Oliver was the first to get sick. Then Mick, then Barry-2. But Mick is more sick than the others. We should assume that he-" the words stick in his throat.

They should assume that he'll be the first to die.

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Oh. Oh. Now he understands.

Harry plucks the marker from Cisco's hand, his voice gentling. "Go. Sit with him. I'll do the calculations and I'll work with Snow on a timeline."

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Well, turns out he's about as good at keeping secrets as Barry is. His best friend must be rubbing off on him.

"Harry, I can't. I can't just sit there and watch." Especially if they don't figure out a way to save him.

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Harry would argue it's more the big hearts in both of them that makes it pretty easy to see when they care for someone, but that's for another time. He reaches out, rests a firm hand on his shoulder. "Hold his hand. Talk to him. Give him every reason in the world to stay."

"We aren't losing anyone. Not today, not tomorrow." It simply will not happen and when Harry Wells sets his will against the world, the world had better be prepared to move.

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The hand on his shoulder is enough to ground him for the moment, and Cisco feels like he can breathe for the first time since this all happened.

"Okay," he says softly. "Okay, Harry." He'd never forgive himself if something happened to Mick and he didn't get the chance to say goodbye. "But I'll be upstairs if you need me."

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And that's the thing.. Harry knows what it feels like, to avoid trying to say goodbye to someone. He wouldn't wish that sort of regret on Cisco. On anyone.

"Go. I'll be up in a moment, I promised the other Allen I'd check on him once he got here."

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"Thanks, Harry," he says, quiet and grateful. He heads out of the workshop and up to the medbay. He's glad Haircut is with him. It makes all of this feel a little less daunting.

Mick is still out from what Cisco can tell, and a quick feel of the ice packs shows they've been switch out recently, so nothing he can do there. He pulls up the closest chair and sits beside Mick's bed, trying to decide if he's actually brave enough to try to hold his hand. After a few aborted attempts, he decides that he is.

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Mick isn't completely under. He drifts, always coming close to awareness when there's movement nearby. Touches are quick and clinical, replacing ice packs, checking vitals. Nothing like the sort of touch he's quietly craved his entire life. Care. Gentleness. Mick knew growing up that touch could mean things that were good, even if his old man only delivered pain and his mother was too terrified to reach out.

So the warm weight of a hand taking his, fingers curling around his, is enough to force him towards awareness.

It's different. People don't reach out to him like that.
At least people who are still around.

"Nngh," a groan as he opens his eyes.
Oh. Cisco. Not Ramon, not Nerd, not Hairdo or anything else like that. Since arriving here he's just been.. Cisco. His friend. Mick's fingers twitch in response. He shouldn't have vanished on him like that. He shouldn't. But Mick isn't that great at processing grief and loss and the last thing he wanted to do was lash out at him.

God he's so bad at this.

"'m sorry." That's a start, right?

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The groan almost makes him let go of Mick's hand. He's afraid. Rejection is something he's dealt with his entire life, and he isn't sure he can handle it. Not now. Not from Mick.

But then his fingers tighten just slightly, and the tension in his stomach relaxes. Maybe he can have this. It isn't much, but it's enough.

"Hey," he says softly. Mick's eyes are open, but they're a little unfocused. It doesn't make him any less worried. "You don't need to apologize."

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The fever and the crashing headache aren't really helping his focus, but Mick stubborns his way through at least turning his head towards Cisco. Hand still in his. He's not letting go.

"Shouldn't have ghosted on you like that." Which was probably for the best, but all the same. Mick knows from a year on the Waverider that isolation isn't the way to deal with grief and loss.

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"I've been there, man," he assures. "Sometimes you need space." He would have liked a heads up to prevent some of the worry, but he understands the need to get away to be alone with your grief.

The haze over Mick's eyes makes his stomach twist with concern. "Harry's working on getting you better," he says softly. "We're gonna figure this out."

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They're working on it. Mick believes him.
But he also knows that the fever is going to kill him even if the radiation poisoning doesn't. He weakly squeezes Cisco's hand again. "s' okay kid."

"You've been a good friend."

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Cisco's heart squeezes in his chest.

"Don't talk like that, Mick," he pleads. "We can figure this out. We're working on a way to create dark matter to counteract the temporal radiation."

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Ah. So they figured that much out. Good.
Mick hums in reply, trying to think through the fever. "I ain't goin anywhere," he promises. "This isn't the first time I've nearly died." He has a friend. A little dragon. A weird as hell life but it's his and Mick is going to hold on to that with all that he has left in him.

"You nerds'll figure it out. You always do."

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He really doesn't need a reminder that Mick's life is in danger on a pretty regular basis. Especially when saving him is up him and his friends. If something happens to Mick, that's on Cisco.

"You should get some sleep, Mick," he says softly. "We'll do everything we can."

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"I know." And he does. He has faith in the nerd squad that something will happen and they will find some way to keep him alive.
He has faith in Cisco.

Mick squeezes his hand again before his eyes drift closed and he falls into another feverish doze. Not once does he even think of letting go of the fingers curled in his, even if Cisco's brain would be better served working with the rest of the science minds.

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