[Despite Cisco's reassurances, his comfort, the way he holds him and tries to get through to him, to explain why it wasn't his fault, why the only person he'd hurt that day had been himself, Eddie has a hard time with it. The guilt is a living thing, worming into his chest, his gut; the sense of failure is even worse, like a nail driven into him.
Cisco's words are good, but it's almost impossible to really believe them. Even if Cisco believes it, even if he's earnest, even if it makes sense, Eddie can't bring himself to throw all that blame on Eobard. There had to have been a way that didn't hurt anyone, or at least hurt fewer people. There's no way to think of himself as selfless anymore - he had died thinking he was a hero, but he had only managed to hurt people, destroy things, and hurt the people he loved.
Burying his face into Cisco's neck, he hides for a while, inhaling the comforting scent of him, letting him rub his back with strong, warm hands, comforting himself with Cisco's presence. For a moment, the desire to push Cisco away overwhelms the desire for comfort, because he doesn't deserve something so nice. Doesn't deserve to be cared about or loved, Eobard had made that intensely clear, and Eobard had been right about it, he thinks. Useless, and damaging.
Breath hitching again, he bites the inside of his lip, and is quiet, for a few moments. Unable to speak, he expresses what he's feeling by closing his fists into the back of Cisco's shirt, fingers digging into fabric.]
no subject
Cisco's words are good, but it's almost impossible to really believe them. Even if Cisco believes it, even if he's earnest, even if it makes sense, Eddie can't bring himself to throw all that blame on Eobard. There had to have been a way that didn't hurt anyone, or at least hurt fewer people. There's no way to think of himself as selfless anymore - he had died thinking he was a hero, but he had only managed to hurt people, destroy things, and hurt the people he loved.
Burying his face into Cisco's neck, he hides for a while, inhaling the comforting scent of him, letting him rub his back with strong, warm hands, comforting himself with Cisco's presence. For a moment, the desire to push Cisco away overwhelms the desire for comfort, because he doesn't deserve something so nice. Doesn't deserve to be cared about or loved, Eobard had made that intensely clear, and Eobard had been right about it, he thinks. Useless, and damaging.
Breath hitching again, he bites the inside of his lip, and is quiet, for a few moments. Unable to speak, he expresses what he's feeling by closing his fists into the back of Cisco's shirt, fingers digging into fabric.]