[ Both Jesse and Jay Garrick are already waiting for them by the breach when they enter, along with Allen and Snow and the others. Harrison makes his way over to all of them, going through each and every goodbye with care, giving them a tight hug. When he gets to Cisco, he pauses for a moment — would it be telling? Does he care at this point? He doesn't. Ramon might. So instead, he gives him a smile and reaches over to squeeze his shoulder instead before pulling back, giving him one last look before joining the other two.
It doesn't take long for Garrick to get them back to their world. Harrison and Jesse step away from the breach and make their way out, wide-eyed at the world around them. Central City had . . . certainly seen better days, but it was already clear that word of Zoom's defeat — or at the very least, his disappearance — had already spread. Buildings were being patched up, roads repaved, rails fixed— it wasn't instantaneous, but it was a process that had already been started.
Garrick steps forward, resting a hand on Harrison's shoulder and giving him a firm nod. Of course. Even though he'd spent months on end trapped in a cell, in that claustrophobic mask, he'd still spent enough time on their Earth to care about it. Figures, that that's how the actual Jay Garrick would be. Harrison shakes his head slowly, turning back towards the city and scanning it carefully, smile beginning to fade. Turns out, they didn't need him at all, and isn't that a kick to the teeth. But then again, he muses idly, maybe "Harrison Wells" has done more than enough for this world. It was probably past time for him to step back and let people like Detective West-Allen take the lead. Though really, he should have just—
No. Jesse needs him. Jesse, who's still recovering from her time with Zoom. Jesse, who doesn't have any close family beyond himself — family that will be there when it counts. He reaches over to rub at his wristwatch nervously, then furrows his brows in confusion when he realizes that his wrist is, in fact, completely bare. Did he leave it behind? Or stuff it away somewhere? Harrison pauses, reaching around for his backpack and unzips it to start sifting through, trying to see if maybe he slid it in the night before without thinking. His fingers brush along a box — a box? He doesn't remember putting a box in there. Carefully, Harrison pulls it out of his backpack, puzzled at first. It takes a moment for the post-it on it to catch his eye.
"to remember me by"
Harrison can feel his heart almost instantly sink at the familiar handwriting, the chicken scratch he'd insulted on a weekly basis, and slowly opens up the box, going through the contents. He lets out a quick, soft laugh at the ball and the markers because that's just like him, isn't it, giving him more ammunition now that he's out of dodge. The USB — well. He can only guess what's on there and knowing Cisco, it's probably pictures. He hopes it's pictures anyway because it suddenly occurs to him that he has maybe one or two at most. Harrison had never been one to take many; it was always those around him that did.
And there it is, the watch. The watch that Cisco hated, the watch that had ignited weeks of animosity between the two of them, and Cisco had . . . apparently taken it and upgraded it instead of dismantling it when given the chance. Harrison stares down at the note numbly, running his thumb across the watch as he reads it. After a moment, he lets out a huff — mostly to mask the lump that had started to form in his throat — and slips the watch back on, glancing up. Jesse had been eying him curiously, brows furrowing with concern, and approaches him when their eyes meet, taking a moment to inspect the box he was holding, realizing at once where it had come from. She glances back at Garrick who gives her another nod, then reaches over to tug at his sleeve, pulling him aside.
And then proceeds to lay into him completely.
He'd be proud if he weren't the focus of her ire. It was extremely apparent that the two of them were cut from the same cloth and when push comes to shove, Jesse Wells is her father's daughter. Words like "stupidly self-sacrificial" get thrown about almost immediately and that's not exactly a point he can argue with, especially when he'd considered stepping down from his position at the company only moments ago while continuing to work tirelessly in the shadows, as he had on Earth-1. Still. He can be just as stubborn as her and crosses his arms, countering each of her points with one of his own. He'd thought this through, he'd said his goodbyes. He had to move on— he had to, what other choice did he have?
"Take me out of the equation. Would you stay or go?"
"What are you—"
"You are such a pain, Dad. Just answer the question! — No thinking, come on! Stay? Or go?"
"— Stay."
Harrison had half-expected her to have the same hollowed out, almost betrayed look that Cisco had had when he'd told him he was leaving, but she only smiles in response, rubbing at his arms lightly, and tells him that yeah, that's what she'd thought. She'd known, better than he had, anyway. He was doing this for her and in time, he'd come to be unhappy. If not today, then tomorrow or the next day or a month down the road. Maybe resent her for it one day even, she reasons. Harrison knows better; he never could. But the rest rings true. Setting her aside, setting all the somewhat legitimate guilt he may feel about his particle accelerator — at this point, there is far more for him to do on the other Earth than there is here.
She gestures to Jay Garrick, though it seems like he already knows what's been happening. What exactly was said between the two of them before, anyway? The thought crosses Harrison's mind briefly, but he pushes it to one side almost instantly. Jesse tugs at Harrison's backpack, pulling out a key card, and passes it over to Garrick, who's then gone and back almost in an instant, passing a dufflebag over to him with ease before returning the card to Jesse. A glance passes between father and daughter, and she raises an eyebrow at him. It dawns on him — she's not giving him the chance to make excuses and back away again. He has what he needs.
The two follow Jay Garrick a few steps back into the building where the breach awaits. The speedster steps towards the breach, arms crossed, waiting. Of course he's waiting, he's been waiting for who knows how long to return to his own Earth. But first—
Harrison pulls Jesse in close, hugging her tighter than perhaps he should, though she doesn't seem to mind in the least as she laughs quietly, wrapping her own arms around him. Harrison can feel the sadness start to settle in the pit of his stomach and he lets out a sharp intake of air, fingers curling as tears slowly prick at his eyes. If anything, he's more of a mess than Jesse, but maybe that's because she'd known and had accepted it long before he had, letting her sorrow run its course. It's a good long while before they pull back, Jesse staring up at him with a soft, sad smile and reaching up to brush at his face with her fingers, and the two of them share another laugh — probably their last one for awhile, though not forever.
It's a good thing, he tells himself as he reluctantly pulls away, shouldering his backpack. She's 18 now, she'd be leaving home eventually. And it's not forever. If the past year's taught him anything, it's that it never is when it comes to the two of them.
Going back through the breach again is . . . not unpleasant, but it's clear that Garrick had taken more care when Jesse was also in tow. Then again, better that they make it back quickly, before much more time passes. How long had it been — maybe a couple hours? He's not really sure. He only knows that when the two of them leap back through the breach and Garrick steadies him with one firm hand, the room is empty and he can only muster out a rough "thanks" as he regains his bearings, glancing around. The lights are out and the halls are quiet, which would be concerning to anyone else if he weren't certain that it was just that most everyone else had left, gone off to take a well deserved break. The two exchange looks and Garrick gives him another nod before heading back through the breach.
And that's it, isn't it.
Harrison runs a hand through his hair and swallows hard, mouth dry. He hadn't realized until now how dry it was, how tired he'd been. All he wants to do is head home and crawl into bed, but that's a problem on an Earth where he doesn't have a real home anymore. It's probably too late to take back the notice for the apartment and if there's one thing he's learned over the past few months, it's that he's so, so tired of being alone. He shoulders his backpack again, shifting the duffle bag as well, and makes his way through the halls of S.T.A.R. Labs slowly, cautiously glancing into one room after another, looking for any signs of life still there. Slow because he's tired, but he's also not stupid. If they were to shoot first and ask questions later at this point with anyone they weren't expecting there, well. He can't really blame them.
Naturally, it's Allen he runs into first. Allen, who doesn't quite seem all there, which is particularly notable by the unfocused look in his eyes and the cagey body language. Verbally sparring with him has always been strangely calming — I leave for two hours, Allen, and what exactly have you gotten up to? — and today is no different. They yell until one of them is hoarse — this time, it's Barry, and that's mildly concerning and something Harrison files away for a later date — and then quietly find a middle ground of their own. This time, Allen agrees to go to Joe, to take it easy for a few days. Let Wally take him around town, maybe. He's dubious at best as to whether Allen will actually go along with it or come up with some sort of asinine caper instead, but he's done what he can. Casually, as though it's merely an afterthought, he asks about Cisco. His voice should be carrying through the halls by now, going on about one project or another. Allen shakes his head, gestures over his shoulder — he looked wrecked, Wells, I mean wrecked — and in that moment, maybe Barry Allen isn't as oblivious as he'd thought. Yet another thing to file away for later.
He briefly thanks him before brushing past him and out to the van pool, snatching up a set of keys. Of course Ramon went home. Of course he's going to— what, wallow? He should have known better. Did he even sleep last night? Harrison glances to the left at his watch briefly. No, of course not. When would he have had the chance to sleep, with everything else he'd been up to? Sneaking around, planting— gifts. He grits his teeth. ]
Damnit, Ramon.
[ It doesn't take long to get to his apartment building, though speeding there helps. He hops out of the van, leaving both bags in there for now, and makes his way to his apartment, not even bothering to pull a baseball cap on or attempt to be subtle. He left subtlety on the other side of the breach. When he reaches the door, he knocks at it abruptly, raising his voice. ]
no subject
It doesn't take long for Garrick to get them back to their world. Harrison and Jesse step away from the breach and make their way out, wide-eyed at the world around them. Central City had . . . certainly seen better days, but it was already clear that word of Zoom's defeat — or at the very least, his disappearance — had already spread. Buildings were being patched up, roads repaved, rails fixed— it wasn't instantaneous, but it was a process that had already been started.
Garrick steps forward, resting a hand on Harrison's shoulder and giving him a firm nod. Of course. Even though he'd spent months on end trapped in a cell, in that claustrophobic mask, he'd still spent enough time on their Earth to care about it. Figures, that that's how the actual Jay Garrick would be. Harrison shakes his head slowly, turning back towards the city and scanning it carefully, smile beginning to fade. Turns out, they didn't need him at all, and isn't that a kick to the teeth. But then again, he muses idly, maybe "Harrison Wells" has done more than enough for this world. It was probably past time for him to step back and let people like Detective West-Allen take the lead. Though really, he should have just—
No. Jesse needs him. Jesse, who's still recovering from her time with Zoom. Jesse, who doesn't have any close family beyond himself — family that will be there when it counts. He reaches over to rub at his wristwatch nervously, then furrows his brows in confusion when he realizes that his wrist is, in fact, completely bare. Did he leave it behind? Or stuff it away somewhere? Harrison pauses, reaching around for his backpack and unzips it to start sifting through, trying to see if maybe he slid it in the night before without thinking. His fingers brush along a box — a box? He doesn't remember putting a box in there. Carefully, Harrison pulls it out of his backpack, puzzled at first. It takes a moment for the post-it on it to catch his eye.
"to remember me by"
Harrison can feel his heart almost instantly sink at the familiar handwriting, the chicken scratch he'd insulted on a weekly basis, and slowly opens up the box, going through the contents. He lets out a quick, soft laugh at the ball and the markers because that's just like him, isn't it, giving him more ammunition now that he's out of dodge. The USB — well. He can only guess what's on there and knowing Cisco, it's probably pictures. He hopes it's pictures anyway because it suddenly occurs to him that he has maybe one or two at most. Harrison had never been one to take many; it was always those around him that did.
And there it is, the watch. The watch that Cisco hated, the watch that had ignited weeks of animosity between the two of them, and Cisco had . . . apparently taken it and upgraded it instead of dismantling it when given the chance. Harrison stares down at the note numbly, running his thumb across the watch as he reads it. After a moment, he lets out a huff — mostly to mask the lump that had started to form in his throat — and slips the watch back on, glancing up. Jesse had been eying him curiously, brows furrowing with concern, and approaches him when their eyes meet, taking a moment to inspect the box he was holding, realizing at once where it had come from. She glances back at Garrick who gives her another nod, then reaches over to tug at his sleeve, pulling him aside.
And then proceeds to lay into him completely.
He'd be proud if he weren't the focus of her ire. It was extremely apparent that the two of them were cut from the same cloth and when push comes to shove, Jesse Wells is her father's daughter. Words like "stupidly self-sacrificial" get thrown about almost immediately and that's not exactly a point he can argue with, especially when he'd considered stepping down from his position at the company only moments ago while continuing to work tirelessly in the shadows, as he had on Earth-1. Still. He can be just as stubborn as her and crosses his arms, countering each of her points with one of his own. He'd thought this through, he'd said his goodbyes. He had to move on— he had to, what other choice did he have?
"Take me out of the equation. Would you stay or go?"
"What are you—"
"You are such a pain, Dad. Just answer the question! — No thinking, come on! Stay? Or go?"
"— Stay."
Harrison had half-expected her to have the same hollowed out, almost betrayed look that Cisco had had when he'd told him he was leaving, but she only smiles in response, rubbing at his arms lightly, and tells him that yeah, that's what she'd thought. She'd known, better than he had, anyway. He was doing this for her and in time, he'd come to be unhappy. If not today, then tomorrow or the next day or a month down the road. Maybe resent her for it one day even, she reasons. Harrison knows better; he never could. But the rest rings true. Setting her aside, setting all the somewhat legitimate guilt he may feel about his particle accelerator — at this point, there is far more for him to do on the other Earth than there is here.
She gestures to Jay Garrick, though it seems like he already knows what's been happening. What exactly was said between the two of them before, anyway? The thought crosses Harrison's mind briefly, but he pushes it to one side almost instantly. Jesse tugs at Harrison's backpack, pulling out a key card, and passes it over to Garrick, who's then gone and back almost in an instant, passing a dufflebag over to him with ease before returning the card to Jesse. A glance passes between father and daughter, and she raises an eyebrow at him. It dawns on him — she's not giving him the chance to make excuses and back away again. He has what he needs.
The two follow Jay Garrick a few steps back into the building where the breach awaits. The speedster steps towards the breach, arms crossed, waiting. Of course he's waiting, he's been waiting for who knows how long to return to his own Earth. But first—
Harrison pulls Jesse in close, hugging her tighter than perhaps he should, though she doesn't seem to mind in the least as she laughs quietly, wrapping her own arms around him. Harrison can feel the sadness start to settle in the pit of his stomach and he lets out a sharp intake of air, fingers curling as tears slowly prick at his eyes. If anything, he's more of a mess than Jesse, but maybe that's because she'd known and had accepted it long before he had, letting her sorrow run its course. It's a good long while before they pull back, Jesse staring up at him with a soft, sad smile and reaching up to brush at his face with her fingers, and the two of them share another laugh — probably their last one for awhile, though not forever.
It's a good thing, he tells himself as he reluctantly pulls away, shouldering his backpack. She's 18 now, she'd be leaving home eventually. And it's not forever. If the past year's taught him anything, it's that it never is when it comes to the two of them.
Going back through the breach again is . . . not unpleasant, but it's clear that Garrick had taken more care when Jesse was also in tow. Then again, better that they make it back quickly, before much more time passes. How long had it been — maybe a couple hours? He's not really sure. He only knows that when the two of them leap back through the breach and Garrick steadies him with one firm hand, the room is empty and he can only muster out a rough "thanks" as he regains his bearings, glancing around. The lights are out and the halls are quiet, which would be concerning to anyone else if he weren't certain that it was just that most everyone else had left, gone off to take a well deserved break. The two exchange looks and Garrick gives him another nod before heading back through the breach.
And that's it, isn't it.
Harrison runs a hand through his hair and swallows hard, mouth dry. He hadn't realized until now how dry it was, how tired he'd been. All he wants to do is head home and crawl into bed, but that's a problem on an Earth where he doesn't have a real home anymore. It's probably too late to take back the notice for the apartment and if there's one thing he's learned over the past few months, it's that he's so, so tired of being alone. He shoulders his backpack again, shifting the duffle bag as well, and makes his way through the halls of S.T.A.R. Labs slowly, cautiously glancing into one room after another, looking for any signs of life still there. Slow because he's tired, but he's also not stupid. If they were to shoot first and ask questions later at this point with anyone they weren't expecting there, well. He can't really blame them.
Naturally, it's Allen he runs into first. Allen, who doesn't quite seem all there, which is particularly notable by the unfocused look in his eyes and the cagey body language. Verbally sparring with him has always been strangely calming — I leave for two hours, Allen, and what exactly have you gotten up to? — and today is no different. They yell until one of them is hoarse — this time, it's Barry, and that's mildly concerning and something Harrison files away for a later date — and then quietly find a middle ground of their own. This time, Allen agrees to go to Joe, to take it easy for a few days. Let Wally take him around town, maybe. He's dubious at best as to whether Allen will actually go along with it or come up with some sort of asinine caper instead, but he's done what he can. Casually, as though it's merely an afterthought, he asks about Cisco. His voice should be carrying through the halls by now, going on about one project or another. Allen shakes his head, gestures over his shoulder — he looked wrecked, Wells, I mean wrecked — and in that moment, maybe Barry Allen isn't as oblivious as he'd thought. Yet another thing to file away for later.
He briefly thanks him before brushing past him and out to the van pool, snatching up a set of keys. Of course Ramon went home. Of course he's going to— what, wallow? He should have known better. Did he even sleep last night? Harrison glances to the left at his watch briefly. No, of course not. When would he have had the chance to sleep, with everything else he'd been up to? Sneaking around, planting— gifts. He grits his teeth. ]
Damnit, Ramon.
[ It doesn't take long to get to his apartment building, though speeding there helps. He hops out of the van, leaving both bags in there for now, and makes his way to his apartment, not even bothering to pull a baseball cap on or attempt to be subtle. He left subtlety on the other side of the breach. When he reaches the door, he knocks at it abruptly, raising his voice. ]
Open the door, Ramon.