Chapter Text
Harry wakes, draped in the first light of morning, from another restless sleep. His heart rate is steady, his breathing calm, so he knows it wasn't a nightmare that had woken him. At the very least, if it had been, his mind was kind enough to let him forget quickly. He'd long since given up on trying to get back to sleep on mornings like this, too aware of the day before him which would offer up distraction after distraction from the things he'd much rather not think about at all.
Harry runs through his morning routine, keeping one ear out for Jesse, calmed by the silence that greets him. At least one of them is sleeping well that night, a too rare occurrence for them both these days. He wishes he could take from her every last memory of her time with Zoom, but he can't. It's just another thing on the long list of things Harry has to atone for in his life.
Settling at his desk, he zeroes in on the large pile of paperwork before him, still barely depleted despite three months of effort to work his way through it. Nonsense memos are broken up by the occasional interesting suggestion for a new invention that could add to the prestige of S.T.A.R. Labs. Each time, he has to fight not to let his mind wander over the ways Cisco Ramon could take those barely sketched out blueprints and turn them into something even the keenest scientific mind could never have quite imagined. He knows it's a waste of his mental energy. Harry isn't on their Earth anymore, and Cisco certainly isn't here; hasn't been since the day they saved Jesse. The promise he had made to vibe over and see Harry remains unfulfilled, and Harry has long since suspected that it will stay that way.
More troublesome than the silence to Harry, is the fact that the silence bothers him at all. He can't remember a time when the presence of other people didn't set him on edge. Didn't make him want to roll his eyes, and let them know just how little he thought of them, with their fake smiles and forced conversations. By the time he hit high school, he prided himself on the ability to push away anyone who wasn't useful to him, and make them think it was their idea to do the walking.
There was Tess, of course. One of the very few who saw how calculated each turn of phrase was, and decided for herself there might be something worth staying for. A handful of colleagues and Jesse rounded out the list of people he could tolerate and who could tolerate him in return. Somehow, Barry, Caitlin and Cisco had added themselves to that list; at least for a time. After three months of silence, he knows he should have already crossed them out and cropped them up as being nothing more than a moment; a memory he can shelve away and only pull out when he's feeling nostalgic. The fact is, he can't. Not when most nights these days are interrupted with the crystal clear memory of dark eyes and unreasonably long hair.
Harry takes off his glasses, and rubs at his tired eyes. He has to clench his fists to keep himself from swiping the whole pile of paperwork off his desk in anger. His assistant would kill him if he asked her to organize them yet again, and really, he just isn't in the mood for another lecture about his temper from Jesse.
Instead, he abandons his work and heads to the kitchen to make breakfast for himself and Jesse. It's become something of a tradition for them ever since their return, one that didn't exist at all before, but now Harry can't imagine doing without. He sets to the task of cracking eggs and whisking batter, Channel 52 playing softly in the background. The food is just about ready when he hears the sound of Jesse's footsteps in the hallway.
“Morning, dad.”
Harry nods his head in greeting to Jesse, his mood lifting at the sight of her with her messy hair and rumpled pajamas. “You sleep okay?”
“Better than you, it seems.” She walks to the stove, picking up a spatula and rescuing the pancakes that are just this side of overcooked. Harry may enjoy cooking, but that doesn't mean he's any good at it.
“I sleep enough,” Harry insists, avoiding eye contact and Jesse's horrible habit of being able to read him with a single glance.
Jesse rolls her eyes. “Sure you do.”
Harry opts not to answer, taking his place at the table and feigning far too much interest in his runny eggs and slightly burnt pancakes. Jesse's response of equally exaggerated enjoyment in her food would annoy him if it didn't stand as a reminder that this is his daughter, so much like him in so many ways.
“We ever going to go talk about it?”
Harry sighs, his amusement fading. “Talk about what?” he asks, though he knows exactly what she means. Honestly, he's surprised and slightly perturbed she let him get away with not talking about it for this long. More proof that Jesse is off her game since Zoom came into their lives.
“The reason you're not sleeping. Why that's one of the few smiles I've seen from you since we got back.”
“I smile,” Harry asserts. He smiles when Jesse comes home from school, babbling about one of her classes. Or when a lab assistant just does enough wrong to justify him firing them.
Jesse shakes her head. “Not like you did over there.”
“Jesse...”
“No, dad. Listen, I'm glad you came back with me. That we get to have mornings like this. But it's not worth it if you're miserable.”
Harry drops his fork onto his plate, and clenches his teeth. “I'm not miserable. I love spending time with you, I love my work-”
“But you don't love it here! Who are you trying to convince, dad? Me or yourself?” Jesse demands, her tone brokering no compromise.
Harry swallows, and turns his eyes to Central City rising up in the distance outside their window. The none too subtle differences between this city and the one he had spent months living in leave him feeling cold.
Jesse places her hand on top of her father's, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You found something over there. And I think it's time you got it back.”
Harry pulls his hand away, pointing it at his daughter. “Okay, first; even if going back were a realistic option, you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to leave you here alone.”
Jesse attempts to respond, but Harry barrels forward, intent to get out what he has to say. “Second; you're assuming that they want me back there, when all empirical evidence suggests that they are doing just fine without a Harrison Wells in their life.”
“Maybe there's a reason Cisco hasn't vibed here like he said he would. You ever think about that? Maybe they're in trouble.”
It's a possibility Harry has considered, but one he has no idea what to do with. Somehow, it's easier to imagine they just forgot about him than to deal with the idea that they've needed him, and he wasn't there.
“If they are, it has nothing to do with us. Not anymore,” Harry grounds out, picking up their plates and letting them drop into the sink with a loud clatter.
“I know you don't believe that.”
“Aren't you going to be late for class?” Harry reminds her innocently.
Jesse swears under her breath, giving her father a none too pleased look. “We'll finish this conversation later.”
“Threatening me will get you nowhere, young lady.” Harry tries to tease her, but he knows it falls flat.
“We both know that isn't true.” She kisses him on the cheek, and leaves him standing there in defeat.
“Round one: Jesse,” Harry sighs to himself, knowing this is only the beginning. He should have learned by now, that when it comes to arguments with Jesse, he will almost always be on the losing side. It doesn't stop him from trying though; especially when it comes to subjects better left untouched.
Harry leaves the dishes, changes out old clothes for new, and heads into work, where he will be free to verbally beat down every lab assistant who comes his way. At least now, he has something to look forward to.
_____
Two flustered interns, and one crying bioengineer later, and Harry feels like he's ready to take on Jesse again. Unfortunately, every argument Harry prepared for their next confrontation crumbles into irrelevancy when Jesse speeds into his office; literally. Harry drops his coffee, flinching at the sound of his favorite mug (stolen from the other STAR Labs) breaking as it hits the edge of his desk, pieces scattering on the floor. For a moment, the only sound in the room is Jesse's heavy breathing, and the drip, drip, drip of his coffee.
“Dad,” Jesse starts, her eyes wide and hands shaking. “I think we might have been wrong about me not being affected.”
“Whatever could have given you that idea?”
Jesse wobbles on her feet, and Harry quickly strides forward, pushing her into a chair. He can't tell if it's the shock of realization that she's a speedster, or a symptom of the speed itself causing her unsteadiness. His mind pulls up every bit of data he can recall about Barry's own emergence, but it seems much of it is lost to time, and his own haphazard approach to studying it in the first place. It hadn't seemed all that important at the time; not when Barry was revealing new information with every move, and Harry's own attention was focused almost solely on his daughter. The irony of this doesn't escape him.
“I'm a speedster,” Jesse grins, sounding drunk with joy.
Harry swallows, willing his dry mouth to find some moisture so he can say the things he knows he needs to say. About being careful, and responsibility and not using her power until she knows what she's doing. All of the things any father would say. The moment of speechlessness gives him enough foresight to bite his tongue, at least for now. What Jesse really needs, more than anything just then, is a scientist. And while Harry is well aware of his many failings as a father, when it comes to science, he has no doubts in his abilities.
They run through every test they can with the limited means they have at their S.T.A.R. Labs. This lab, unlike on the other Earth, was never equipped to accurately measure the affects of speed. Even worse, there is no one he works with who he trusts to help him run the tests. He doesn't even want to consider what might happen if word got out to the wrong person that Harrison Wells' daughter was a metahuman.
“Well?” Jesse asks, vibrating in her skin as her father looks over the results they have compiled.
“It would seem that you were effected by the dark matter when we gave Barry back his speed.”
“This is permanent then? Like Barry?”
Harry hides his grimace behind his coffee cup. “Looks like.”
Jesse's eyes soften, moving around the desk to stand beside her father. “Dad, you don't have to worry. I can handle this.”
“Of course I have to worry, Jesse! Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you know-” He hits the table hard enough that his hand aches.
“How could I not know? Do you forget where I spent half of last year?” Jesse narrows her eyes at him. “I'm the last person you need to lecture about danger.”
Harry squeezes his eyes shut, his stomach sinking with guilt at the reminder. “I don't want you to get hurt. Not again.”
“So, we'll run more tests. I'll train. Just like Barry did.” Jesse perks up suddenly, giving Harry a guileful look. “You know, there's no one better to teach me than Barry.”
“No,” Harry shakes his head, his voice raising in volume as he continues to speak. “Absolutely not. Technology here is decades beyond anything they have over there. I can develop anything that we need right here.”
“Fine. I'm leaving. You can call me when you realize you're wrong, and change your mind.”
Before he can respond, Jesse is gone. Harrison laughs, despite himself. “Round two, and probably every round for the rest of my life: Jesse.”
Harry sets to work, intent on proving his daughter wrong.
_____
It takes him eight hours to admit she is right. It isn't that he can't do it. It's that he can't do it alone. He doesn't have the medical training that Caitlin does or the level of engineering skills nor creativity of Cisco. The missing pieces to his knowledge are something he is willing to tolerate on projects where he has the time to move slowly. When it comes to Jesse, there is no moving slowly.
A warm fondness fills his chest when Jesse doesn't utter the words 'I told you so'. Instead, she gives her father a supportive look and sets to the task of helping him gear up for their return trip to the other Earth, and honing her own speed to make the journey.
She fills the silence of the workroom with talk of seeing Wally again, and finally getting her hands on a quality Big Belly Burger after so long. It's when she never mentions Cisco, even as she speaks of Caitlin and Barry and Iris, that Harry realizes she is doing it more for his benefit than her own. It's also when he realizes that Jesse knows far more about her father's own feelings than she's been letting on.
It doesn't stop the gnawing worry in the pit of his stomach of what will happen when he faces Cisco again, but it helps more than he is willing to say.
It isn't that he thinks Cisco hates him suddenly. He knows they parted on good terms, despite how long it took them to get there. It's the thought that he's no more than just another person to Cisco. Someone who you say goodbye to, with promises to see each other more often, only to drift away easily; comfortable to meet or not meet again.
It wouldn't be a new experience, being that to someone. The shine of being the Harrison Wells who created S.T.A.R. Labs always fades quickly once people meet him and realize he's just as big of an ass as people say he is. The thing of it is, this is the first time in a long time that he has cared. How deeply those feelings run is something he still can't bring himself to explore, mostly because he knows what that answer will be.
That being said, he wouldn't be the man he is if he wasn't willing to face up to his fears. So, when Jesse finally tells him she's ready, he stands before the swirl of blues and whites that will carry him to the other Earth and plunges in headfirst.
_____
The speed with which Harry gets the answer to just why Cisco and the others had froze him out is almost as surprising as the answer itself. Really, he should have seen it coming.
“How many times did I tell you not to do that?” Harry admonishes Barry, reigning in his anger. The timeline has changed. There is no telling exactly what is different. His only solace is that they, at the very least, know who he and Jesse are.
The sound of Jesse explaining how she discovered her powers is drowned out by the sheer endlessness of possibilities spreading out before Harry like a map he has no key to. He begins considering them with the only starting point he has; Cisco did not vibe over and see him, as promised. Given that, he sees two likely paths; either Cisco still thinks of Harry with the suspicion and derision that characterized the start of their relationship, or, conversely, Cisco might not have the ability to Vibe at all.
He knows those aren't the only two ways this could have gone. The ripples of time might have some completely different version of them that Harry can't begin to fathom.
As Caitlin explains how the speed lab works, Harry studies the way each member of the team interacts with him and each other. He can tell something is not quite right between Iris and Joe, who no longer move together in sync, but instead against each other like opposing forces. Wally disappears before he can get a read on him. Caitlin seems the same, but he knows even if there were changes, she wouldn't be one to put them on display.
Then, there's Cisco. He wavers between acting like the Cisco he remembers, ready with a wry comment or pop culture reference, to one who seems uncomfortable and out of place, as if he's standing outside of the group rather than a member of it. It doesn't take him long to realize how much of what Cisco is presenting is an act; there to cover up whatever it is that is going on inside his head.
He's itching to know more, but he doesn't know how to ask, or even what questions would give him the understanding he needs. Instead, he narrows his focus to the one problem he knows he can solve; how to help his daughter.
_____
By the next morning, the speed lab provides them with everything Harry could possibly want to know, and even a few things he hadn't considered. Jesse's tests come out comparatively normal, and besides training her to better handle her abilities, even he has to admit, there isn't much else for them to do. The speed lab is far more advanced than the tools he expected would be at their disposal and much sooner than expected, he's left leaning into paper thin arguments as to why Jesse shouldn't use her speed. Time, the one thing he needs right now, isn't on his side. And as it turns out, neither are the allies he expected to help him convince Jesse to reign it in.
When he asks, first Cisco, then Caitlin refuses to speak to Jesse about her abilities. Harry can only narrow his eyes and flail his arms in frustration as Caitlin storms out, leaving him alone in the speed lab with Cisco. A Cisco who can barely look at him.
The other problem, the much more unsolvable one, rears its head. Cisco doesn't try and strike a conversation with Harry, and Harry doesn't know where to begin in speaking to Cisco. He watches while Cisco half-heartedly scrolls through Jesse's data, and wills himself to gain control of his fluctuating emotions. Death by stress induced stroke, he thinks, is looking more and more likely by the minute.
“I suppose you want me to run this information through again, even though we don't need to?” Cisco asks. He sounds distant; professional. Nothing like the Cisco he left behind, and exactly the kind of Cisco he feared he might return to. Only now, he has no idea whether that coldness is of his own making, or created by the timeline deviation. Frustrated does not begin to cover how Harry feels.
“She's my daughter. Something I'd only expect you to understand if you had one of your own. She's not ready.” Harry says harshly, relishing in how good it feels to lash out, however unwarranted. He needs the familiarity of their repartee, and he's going to get it, even if it means forcing it out of Cisco.
“Well, if you think she's not ready, then obviously she's not. Harry knows best, as always.”
“That's right, I do. Nice to see you finally acknowledging it.”
“Whatever, Harry,” Cisco says through clenched teeth.
Harry's stomach sinks when Cisco starts the process of shutting down the computers. He isn't engaging him; he isn't even trying to fight back. Whatever Harry is missing here, whatever has changed between them, is much bigger than Harry could have imagined.
With the awareness that their well practiced exchanges won't work, he shifts to a more cautioned approach. “She's 18 years old. Do you really want to see her in the kind of danger that Barry jumps in front of every day? She's your friend.” Harry pauses, and braces himself before finishing, “I'm your friend.”
Cisco narrows his eyes at him, giving him a look of complete disbelief. “You're my...you're my friend. Yeah, Okay,” Cisco snorts sarcastically. “Jesse may be my friend, but you certainly aren't. You're out of your mind if you think I'd be that easy.”
Cisco pushes past him, leaving Harry alone to absorb just how completely out of his depth he is.
_____
“More has changed here than Barry realizes.”
Harry had given himself a few moments to calm down, before making his way into Caitlin's office, but the anger he feels still colors every word, and he can't bring himself to care, even when Caitlin flinches in response to it.
Caitlin freezes in her actions. “What makes you think that?” Her tone is light, uncaring, but Harry knows Caitlin enough to see that she's on edge.
He walks slowly toward her, watching her as he speaks. “It's Ramon...Cisco,” Harry amends, after a beat. At the mention of his name, the tension in Caitlin's shoulders dissipates slightly. Whatever it is that she is hiding, and Harry would bet his life that she is hiding something, clearly has nothing to do with Cisco or Harry. He files the information away to be dealt with later. “Something happened between us here. Any chance you can enlighten me?”
“Whatever may or may not have happened between you and Cisco is none of my business.”
Harry lets out a frustrated noise. “Then make it your business, Snow! Because thanks to Barry Allen, Ramon is treating me like his mortal enemy, and as far as I was aware, we were on good terms.”
At this, she looks equal parts curious and concerned. “Well, you definitely didn't do that here.”
“Then tell me what happened,” Harry urges her, losing all patience.
“You're going to have to talk to him, Harry. I don't feel like it's mine to tell. It's his and yours.” She pauses, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Though of course you have no memory of it so maybe it's his and the other Wells.”
“Yeah, well, if you haven't noticed, he doesn't exist anymore. I do.”
Caitlin's lips thin in a sympathetic line. “Have you told Cisco your memories don't line up?”
“He hasn't given me a chance.”
“Yeah, not surprising. Just talk to him, okay? I know it wasn't technically you, but you really hurt him. And between that and his brother dying-”
Harry stops her, his eyes widening as a sour feeling settles in his stomach. “Dante's dead?”
“Yeah. A few months ago. I can't be sure whether you would have even known that in the other timeline, considering it happened after you left.”
“Christ.” He sits down heavily, running his hands through his hair. The similarities between the sadness Cisco now carries, and his own lonely bitterness after losing Tess crystallizes in his mind. Gratitude at having another piece to this jagged puzzle in place gives way to shame, then guilt. Whatever the circumstances, he hasn't been there for Cisco. And, if he's right, whatever the other version of himself did, only made things worse for him.
“He's been really wrecked by it. He was only just starting to deal, and now you've shown up.” Caitlin shakes her head. “Just talk to him, Harry.”
_____
He finds Cisco alone in his lab, crouching over his workbench, back turned to Harry. Harry allows himself a moment to study the lines of his body. He looks just like the Cisco he remembered, lost in whatever project he's working on, oblivious to the world around him. Had Barry not messed up the timeline, he imagines he'd be wrestling right then with how to get Cisco to stop rambling on about whatever it is he's working on so they could tackle a serious topic rather than how to get him to speak to him at all.
Harry clears his throat, wincing as Cisco tenses, clearly unhappy to realize he's there. “Ramon.”
“What is it?” Cisco grounds out between clenched teeth. He still hasn't turned to face Harry, instead pretending to continue to fiddle with his project, though Harry can tell he isn't really working anymore.
“There's something you need to know.”
“Oh? And what's that, Harry? Heading home already? Don't let the portal hit you on the way out,” Cisco responds, each word dripping with sarcasm.
“Whatever it is you're mad at me for, I don't remember it,” Harry says, in something between a whisper and a rasp. “Or more accurately, it wasn't me.”
Cisco twists his head to look at Harry, his chest swiftly rising and falling. “The timeline?”
“Yeah, the timeline.” Harry moves closer, so that he is standing in front of Cisco, forcing him to look at him, only the workbench standing between them.
“Great. Just great,” Cisco laughs harshly, with a shake of his head. “Here I am, all pissed at you, for good reason I might add, and you don't remember.”
Harry gives him a forced smile. “If it makes you feel better, I was under the impression that I was the one who had every reason to be pissed at you.”
Cisco nods thoughtfully, “That does kinda make me feel better.” His tone is light, but the expression on his face let's Harry know that whatever happened between them can't be dismissed with a simple joke.
Harry wants to touch him. To reach out, and feel the rough material of his shirt beneath his fingers. To know that Cisco is real and okay, and with him in this. Instead, he steps back from Cisco, picking up the whiteboard marker. He turns it over in his hands, willing Cisco to fill the silence, like he would have done before, even at his maddest with Harry. It's only when Cisco continues standing there, an unhappy look on his face, that Harry pushes.
“I heard about your brother.” As changes in subjects go, it's likely not the best course of action, considering the way Cisco folds in on himself. “I'm sorry for your loss.”
“Yeah, well, it's just part of life, right? Losing the people you love,” Cisco responds evenly, clearly trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.
Harry takes a chance, reaching forward and brushing Cisco's hair behind his ear. The sadness he sees there, and the way his heart aches in response casts away all doubt about just where his feelings for Cisco lay. His brain would choose such an awful moment to realize he's in love.
“After it happened, I begged Barry to go back and fix it. He wouldn't do it.”
“At least he learned his lesson.”
Cisco backs away, giving Harry a sharp look. “Funny how he only listens when it isn't about him.”
Harry let's out a frustrated breath. “Messing with the timeline is always a bad idea, Ramon. Someone is always going to lose out and get hurt. You and I should know that better than anyone.”
Cisco shrugs, moving back over to his workbench. He runs his hands over the spare parts, but makes no move to engage with them. “You know what really sucks? I was just starting to forgive Barry. Now, I can't help thinking with all this.” He gestures between himself and Harry before continuing. “That maybe things might had been different. My brother might still be here.”
“Maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn't. I can't tell you either way. The last time I spoke to any of you was over three months ago.” Unlike Cisco, Harry can't keep what he's feeling from coating his words, but Cisco either doesn't notice it or chooses not to acknowledge it. Harry isn't sure which he'd prefer. A Cisco indifferent to his feelings, or one so distant, he doesn't notice them at all.
“So, about the same time we last remember speaking to you.”
“Seems so.”
“I guess then, there's no point thinking about it,” Cisco concludes, in a way that suggests the conversation is over. Harry can tell though, that he's still caught up in it; not yet done thinking of all the what ifs that Barry has foisted on them.
Harry wants to keep talking. To poke and prod at Cisco until he fully understands just where their memories deviate. His gut though, tells him to give it a rest. Cisco isn't one of his projects he can work at relentlessly until he knows how it works. He places the unused marker back on the whiteboard, and urges his feet forward.
_____
Things only get worse with Jesse in the wake of Wally nearly killing himself in an attempt to prove he too is a speedster. Harry completely loses it. He yells at her, voicing every concern and fear that had settled in his mind since Jesse sped into his office. And he does it all in front of the team. He can't even be mad when Caitlin lays into him, knowing he deserves it at the very least for embarrassing Jesse; no matter how valid his concerns might be. All the while, Cisco watches on silently.
It's that final detail that leads him outside, pulling in deep breath after deep breath, hands braced on his knees.
“You trying to get yourself shot?”
Harry stands up straight at the sound of Joe's voice. He's leaning against the building, phone in hand. He looks just about as stressed as Harry feels.
“If you're referring to me yelling at my daughter-”
“Actually,” Joe interrupts. “I was talking about you showing your face outside. But you have a point. That girl of yours is fierce.”
“I needed a break.”
“C'mon. I know just the place,” Joe says, gesturing for Harry to follow him.
Any other day, Harry would have said no, but the thought of going back into that building, back to stressing over everything and everyone around him, has him trailing after Joe without a second thought.
Joe takes him to a small, run down bar just on the city limits. Harry hasn't been here before, but he feels instantly at home. It's the kind of place where nobody cares who you are, or what you might have done, as long as you keep to yourself and pay at the end of the night.
“I used to come here whenever Iris and I would have one of our knock down, drag out fights.”
“I didn't think you guys had that kind of relationship,” Harry says, hoping his meaning is vague enough that if Joe doesn't know about the way the timeline manipulated his life, Harry won't be the one to tell him. While Joe deserves to know, Harry does not want to deal with the baggage of that particular bit of misery coming from him.
“The fighting calmed down after Iris moved out. It may sound strange, but sometimes I miss it,” Joe smiles sadly. He swirls his drink in his hand, watching as the liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass.
“Well, that's...depressing.”
Joe laughs, with a shake of his head. “You're telling me. Which is why, I am telling you to work whatever this is out with your daughter. You don't want to end up like us. Trust me.”
Harry takes a sip of his whiskey, considering Joe's advice. He knows he isn't wrong, but that doesn't stop him from wishing Jesse would see things his way. That it could be as simple as telling her what to do, and her doing it.
“I don't know how to get it through her head that being a hero is dangerous.”
“Been there, done that with Barry. You're never going to convince her, try as you might. You just gotta have her back, and hope she stays safe. Easier said than done, I know.”
Harry orders a second drink, savoring the burn of the whiskey on his tongue. He waits until the bartender is a safe distance from them, before continuing their conversation. He has no real reason to be suspicious of him, but Harry is a suspicious man by nature, and the last thing he wants is his secrets being passed around an unknown place.
“When Jesse was taken by Zoom, I'd never been more scared in my life. All I could think about was saving her. Getting her as far away from danger as possible where I could see her and know that nobody would ever lay a hand on her again.”
Joe makes a sympathetic sound. “I felt the same way with Barry. I spent years trying to get it through his head that he wasn't to blame for his mom. Trying to protect him from himself. Next thing I knew, he was out there, risking his life every day. Doing everything he could do make up for something that wasn't even his fault in the first place.”
“You ever wish you did more to stop him?”
“I used to. Now, I think it did more to convince him I was right than anything I could ever say. Maybe it's the same for Jesse. Maybe instead of being the one in danger, she needs to be the one doing the saving for once. You ever think of that?”
“You're a smart man, Joe West.”
Harry downs the rest of his drink, leaves more than enough money on the bar for them both, and heads out the door. Break over.
_____
When Harry gets back to The Cortex, he finds the lights dimmed and the room empty. With no meta on the attack, everyone is at home, taking advantage of the few spare moments of free time this kind of life affords them.
He ambles down to his old room to settle in for the night, not surprised when he doesn't see Jesse. He sits heavily on her bed, running his hand over the soft sheets. Even though they had been gone for months, the team had kept it just as they had left it. His own bed, still made up with hospital sheets and blankets, while Jesse's is wrapped in a warm comforter Caitlin had given her as a welcoming present. Unlike Jesse, he'd never really tried to make this a home. He doesn't know what that says about him, given he had been the one intent on staying while Jesse had always intended to go back home.
His reverie is interrupted by a light knocking at the door. He looks up, breath catching in his throat at the sight of Cisco.
“Hey. I'm not bothering you, am I?”
“Does it look like you're bothering me?” Harry says, gesturing for Cisco to come inside. “I thought everyone had gone home for the night.”
“I was finishing something up.” Cisco takes a few hesitant steps forward, before seeming to come to some sort of decision, striding forward briskly and settling on the cot opposite Harry. “I made this. For Jesse,” he adds, holding out a small metal box.
“Why are you giving it to me then?” Harry asks, pushing up his glasses, and accepting the box.
“After what happened earlier, I figured you needed all the help you could get getting back on her good side.”
Harry opens the box, letting out a long breath as he studies the insignia nestled inside. It's not a huge departure from the lightning bolt design Cisco created for Barry, but the slight differences feel tailor made for Jesse. He doesn't even have to close his eyes to picture what it will look like emblazoned on her chest.
“This is...” Harry starts, but finds himself at a loss for words. Harry had taken Cisco's silence in the Cortex earlier as some form of judgment, or maybe even indifference; he hadn't yet decided. This though, is something else entirely.
“It was Caitlin's idea to reconfigure one of Barry's suits for Jesse, but I thought she should have something all her own.”
“Thank you for this, Cisco. It'll mean a lot to Jesse.”
“Yeah, of course. No big deal,” Cisco says, with a slight smile. “I'll just go finish work on the suit. And let you know when it's done.”
As Cisco begins to stand, Harry reaches out to stop him. He'd been aiming for Cisco's arm, but instead, his fingers tangle with Cisco's own. The grip feels familiar, though he's sure he and Cisco have never clasped hands before. He's always made it a point, to not let Cisco touch him too much, afraid of what he might see.
“Harry?” Cisco asks softly when Harry continues to sit there mutely, eyes focused solely on their point of connection.
After another moment, Cisco takes his hand back, first rubbing it against his thigh, then using it to brush his hair behind his ear. Harry traces the movements, all the while wishing Cisco hadn't let go.
“I need to know – I have to know – what happened between us,” Harry finally says.
“Maybe it's better if you don't.”
“No. It's not better. This, the way things are between us, it's unacceptable to me. I won't accept it.”
Cisco bites his lip, letting out shaky breath after shaky breath. “Fine. If you really want to know.”
“I do.”
“You left,” Cisco shrugs.
Harry gives Cisco a confused look, not sure what to make of the answer. “That's it? I left?”
“Yeah. You left me. After everything, you just left.” Cisco cuts himself off with a shake of his head. It's only when Harry sees the way his eyes are shining with unshed tears that Cisco's phrasing hits home for Harry.
“I left you. Are you saying that we were...” He leaves the sentence hanging, unwilling to commit himself to what he knows Cisco means.
“Oh God,” Cisco moans, covering his face with his hands. “Yes, we were together. Which means, in your timeline, we weren't together at all.”
Harry pushes past the shock to answer. “We were friends. At least on my side of things we were.”
“Did I not think of you that way?” Cisco peaks out from beneath his hands, looking troubled by this line of thinking.
Harry sighs, scrubbing at his face, trying to find the words to explain the complicated emotions he had spent so long pushing away. “You did, I think. In between the wise ass comments and the stupid remarks. You even promised to come see me, on my Earth. But you never did.”
“Because of the timeline,” Cisco remarks, eyes lighting up with understanding. “The timeline changed, and I was no longer the Cisco that thought I was supposed to come see you. That's why you were mad at me when you came here?”
“Well, it sounds trite when you say it like that.”
Cisco laughs. “This is so ridiculous. So, here we are, both thinking the other person has royally messed up. When in reality, it's neither of us.”
“I wouldn't say that. What happened to you, still happened. Even if I don't remember doing it, I hurt you.”
Cisco plops back dramatically on Harry's bed. “And now I can't even be mad at you. This is the worst breakup ever.”
“Even worse than when you dated a reincarnated Hawk Lady?” Harry asks, with a quirk of his brow.
“Okay, maybe not that bad,” Cisco concedes.
Cisco props himself up on his arms, and looks at Harry; really looks at him. Harry fidgets under his gaze, suddenly aware that Cisco has an advantage over him now. Cisco knows him, in ways Harry hasn't had the chance to get to know Cisco. He can only guess just how personal and deep Cisco's knowledge is. He's dizzy with the thought of it. Not just what Cisco knows of him, but of all of the things he missed, and all of the ways Cisco might have changed since the last time he saw him. He knows from experience how months spent by one person's side can make things inside you shift, and grow and break. A time aberration of himself stole those moments from him. Some part of his mind acknowledges just how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself, but it's drowned out by the utter fury that no matter what he does, he'll never be able to take that time back.
Harry stands up rapidly, leaving Cisco blinking up at him from the cot, as if woken from a trance. Just as Cisco is about to ask what he's doing, the sound of the metahuman alert system saves Harry from having to explain.
Harry leaves wordlessly, not bothering to look back to see if Cisco is following. He needs time to think about this; time to consider what the hell it all means.
Harry had thought that once he knew the whys and hows of the silence from Team Flash, he'd feel some sense of closure; for better or worse. Now, with everything laid out before him, all he has are more questions and this time, he knows, he has no one to look to for answers but himself. What he does, from here on out is on him.
The thought shouldn't scare him as much as it does.