[ Funny, how over the course of one day he'd gone from mourning Jay Garrick to cursing his name.
Harrison had only briefly lingered with the others after Barry's abrupt exit, telling them in a clipped tone that Jesse had left town. It was fine. She would be fine. Deep down, past all his fears and anxieties, he knew it would be better in the end, that she was right. She always was at the end of the day. But that didn't mean it had to sit well with him. He'd stormed off to an empty lab to knock a few beakers clear across the room and yell for a bit into a void. It barely helped at all. Cleaning up the mess he'd made, sweeping up the shards, wasn't much better.
He spent — he doesn't know how long he spent staring at the wall blankly, rerunning moments in time in his mind. Was it all a lie? Probably. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Though things had ended on less than ideal terms, he'd thought— well. It was hard to register, Jay being the very same man who'd tormented him for months, who held his daughter in captivity, who'd very nearly killed him several times over. Jay had saved him — was that all part of the plan, too?
Harrison rubs at his face. Normally, he'd seek out Jesse and sit with her in those quiet moments when he'd rather not be alone. But she was gone. The next person that came to mind was . . . well. He'd thoroughly mucked that up. And then Garrick had effectively taken all of his very logical reasons and crushed them into fine paste. What he'd been so sure of only weeks ago now just seemed like excuses. And he was so, so tired.
He pushes him up and stalks the halls of the labs, glancing into one empty room after another. Realizing that everyone had left already, he heaves a sigh, then scoops up his coat and hat and heads for the door.
It doesn't take him long to get to Cisco's and he slows his pace when he enters the building, making his way towards his apartment. Harrison had been all determination on the way over, only focused on getting to his destination. But now he was here and he still didn't quite have a plan of action or even an idea of one; he just functions on instinct.
Lifting his hand quickly, before he can change his mind, he knocks on the door three times sharply. ]
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Harrison had only briefly lingered with the others after Barry's abrupt exit, telling them in a clipped tone that Jesse had left town. It was fine. She would be fine. Deep down, past all his fears and anxieties, he knew it would be better in the end, that she was right. She always was at the end of the day. But that didn't mean it had to sit well with him. He'd stormed off to an empty lab to knock a few beakers clear across the room and yell for a bit into a void. It barely helped at all. Cleaning up the mess he'd made, sweeping up the shards, wasn't much better.
He spent — he doesn't know how long he spent staring at the wall blankly, rerunning moments in time in his mind. Was it all a lie? Probably. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Though things had ended on less than ideal terms, he'd thought— well. It was hard to register, Jay being the very same man who'd tormented him for months, who held his daughter in captivity, who'd very nearly killed him several times over. Jay had saved him — was that all part of the plan, too?
Harrison rubs at his face. Normally, he'd seek out Jesse and sit with her in those quiet moments when he'd rather not be alone. But she was gone. The next person that came to mind was . . . well. He'd thoroughly mucked that up. And then Garrick had effectively taken all of his very logical reasons and crushed them into fine paste. What he'd been so sure of only weeks ago now just seemed like excuses. And he was so, so tired.
He pushes him up and stalks the halls of the labs, glancing into one empty room after another. Realizing that everyone had left already, he heaves a sigh, then scoops up his coat and hat and heads for the door.
It doesn't take him long to get to Cisco's and he slows his pace when he enters the building, making his way towards his apartment. Harrison had been all determination on the way over, only focused on getting to his destination. But now he was here and he still didn't quite have a plan of action or even an idea of one; he just functions on instinct.
Lifting his hand quickly, before he can change his mind, he knocks on the door three times sharply. ]