[ Cisco doesn't think he's ever watched the sun coming up with as much dread as he does that morning. The blinds in his room are drawn, but he can gauge the oncoming of dawn by how much brightness filters through them. He can hear birds first, and then slowly, a dull grey light.
There's nothing left to be done. Cisco's showered and shaved and gotten dressed already; he's already made Harry's gift and shoved it in an inconspicuous-looking box, tucked that box into Harry's backpack with a simple post-it that says 'to remember me by'. Cisco doesn't think he would have the courage to give it to Harry alone without crying, and if he did it in front of Barry or Caitlin... they'd gotten this far without knowing about him and Harry. Might as well leave it that way.
So he sits on the bed beside Harry, listening to the sounds of oncoming day and hating them. Harry looks so different when he's asleep. It's possible that watching him rest like this is creepy, but right now Cisco doesn't care. It's his last chance to do so.
The gift itself had probably been a bad idea, too. But it's getting to be a kind of tradition, and who is he to go against that? It's only a few small things. Some clearboard markers, a joke about all the times he made Cisco throw him one or get new ones. A tomato-sized rubbed ball with a bit of masking tape labelling it 'throw me'. A Big Belly Burger keychain, for obvious reasons. There's also a thumb-drive filled with pictures. Not just the few that Harry had allowed Cisco to take of the two of them together. Pictures of Harry with Barry and Caitlin that Cisco had taken, or of him talking with Joe, of Iris and Wally and Jesse.
And tucked in with the rest, Harry's metahuman detection watch. Cisco had felt a bit bad, taking it, but he'd been careful, making his adjustments. Wrapped around the band of the watch is another small note, explaining:
blue light + sound = breach nearby blue and red light + vibrates = breacher nearby
Just because Zoom is gone doesn't mean there won't be more threats, and it had been easy enough, setting the watch to detect people or objects vibrating at the wrong frequency for Earth-2. Easy enough to work it in alongside the metahuman detection process. Cisco remembers when he hated this watch, and Harry for using it on him. Now, he takes comfort in tucking it away in that box, hoping it will keep Harry and Jesse safe.
When Harry finally starts to stir, it's almost 7 AM. Cisco brings in a mug of coffee for him, sets it on the bedside table - any other day he would have told Harry to go and get it his damn self, but there's no harm in being accommodating just for today. Not like he's setting any precedents that will matter. He bends down to kiss Harry's temple, smiling a little at the wild state of his hair. ]
[ It takes him a few minutes to fully emerge from his sleep-filled haze, letting out a soft hum at the brief warmth near his temple. Harrison would be lying if he said that he'd slept well; he hadn't, though he really did try his hardest. It was difficult when some intrusive thought or other crossed his mind, jarring him into wakefulness. Who's going to keep Barry from self destructing? Who's going to help Joe look out for Barry? Who will keep an eye out for Snow and help her with her recovery? Who's going to challenge Cisco and push him to be the best he can be? It should be him, even though he knows it can't be, not anymore. Fortunately, they provide a decent distraction for him, and Harrison doesn't even notice that his watch is missing.
Slowly, he sits up, taking the coffee from the side table and raising it towards Cisco briefly in muted thanks. He sips at it slowly, running his free hand through his hair a few times to make it borderline presentable, glancing briefly to the side to give Cisco a look. He already knows what he's thinking — or what he should be, anyway, which is some crack about not owning a comb. Harrison quietly muses over that for a moment before reaching over to stroke Cisco's hair slowly, brushing some of it back behind his ears.
He was never very good with words, but he hopes, at least, that his actions will speak volumes. I'll miss you. I didn't hate it here. I think I care about you. ... though perhaps silence is just as golden.
After a few minutes, once he's finished his coffee, he pulls away from Cisco and stands, setting the mug aside and scooping up his pants and his jacket. It takes him only a few minutes to really pull himself together, checking his appearance in the mirror briefly, then turns back towards him. There's two words that he really doesn't want to say at this very moment, but they're long past due. If they're late, he'll never hear the end of it from Jesse. ]
[ Cisco manages to sit through it - Harry, looking at him like that, tucking his hair back behind his ears, touching it so gently. For all that he could be abrasive and impatient and destructive when the two of them are working together, Harry had never gotten rough with him when they're together like this, hadn't scared him. That's more than could be said of some people, in Cisco's experience. And maybe Barry or Caitlin wouldn't approve if they knew, but the fact is, Cisco doesn't think he's going to find anyone as good for him as Harry. Not for a long time, if ever.
But that's not the kind of thing he can think about right now. It's hard enough, enduring these final quiet moments together. He drops his gaze when his eyes start to get too wet, but no tears fall, so it's okay. When Harry gets up and starts getting dressed, Cisco gets the opportunity he needs to compose himself. He has to put on a normal face, a passable face, for their formal goodbye at S.T.A.R. Labs. The night had been theirs, and now it's back to playing the role of 'moderately sad teammate/ friend'. ]
You got your things?
[ When he sees that Harry has everything, Cisco shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, nods, and leads the way out of the apartment. Normally, if they're not talking about science, he is the one who fills up the silence with chatter. But he's not feeling talkative, this morning, so they make the drive back to S.T.A.R. Labs in silence. Cisco has settled into a kind of sleep-deprived numbness that he's grateful for. It'll help him save face for the fake goodbye. When they get up to the doors, Cisco stops. This is his last chance to say something to Harry, in private. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Eventually Cisco shakes his head and goes in, squaring his shoulders and forcing a smile that hopefully, Caitlin and Barry and the rest of them won't notice is miserable around the edges. ]
[ 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. ]
[ Cisco understands why Harry hugs Barry and Caitlin but not him. He's grateful for it; it's taking all his willpower to keep his shit together, keep it under control. Cisco knows he only has to do this a little longer. It will be easier, when Harry is actually gone. Or at least, that's what he thinks.
He doesn't leave S.T.A.R. Labs right away. He sticks around, cleaning listlessly, trying to get work done but dropping whatever he picks up after only a few seconds. Work should be able to distract him. Since when has he not been able to take his mind off things with machines? But it's no use. So he slouches into the Cortex, tells Barry that he's going home. He gives some excuse, but he can't even remember what it was a moment after. Nothing seems to be sticking to his mind: it all slides off a moment later, leaving no impression.
Probably he shouldn't even be driving in this state, but he makes it back to his apartment without running over any small children or getting into any collisions. He shuts the door, kicks off his shoes. He's halfway to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee when he starts crying. It happens all at once - one moment, he is fine, and the next the dam inside him breaks. A kitchen floor seems like as good a place as any to have a cry, so Cisco sits down, his back against the fridge, and bawls his eyes out.
He hasn't cried like this in a long time - the intense stress of the last few weeks (months, he thinks) contributes some, as does the sleep deprivation. But it's also just because he can't picture his life tomorrow and the day after and the day after without Harry. Even before they had hooked up, he had become a permanent fixture at S.T.A.R. Labs. In Cisco's life. He can't think of the last time when a day has gone by and he hasn't seen Harry for at least a few minutes.
Cisco is still crying when the door rattles on its hinges, the loud knock startling him badly. What awful timing. Is it Joe, or Barry, did something else go wrong-
Then he hears that voice, and it just. Can't be.
Cisco dries his cheeks hastily with his sleeves and gets to his feet, rushing over to the door. Confusion mutes all other emotions, for the time being. They are suspended until he figures out what this is. For all he knows, Harry's forgotten something in his room, even though he checked. So Cisco opens the door, not saying anything at all. He knows already that his face will say plenty - that his eyes and nose are red from crying and he can't stop sniffing and he must look completely miserable. ]
Edited (I'M SORRY I EDIT SO MUCH) 2016-06-01 05:39 (UTC)
[ Whatever Harrison had planned on saying dies off in his throat the minute Cisco opens the door. He'd known that Cisco was upset and trying to hide it, attempting to be strong or whatever garbage he was using to rationalize it at that moment, but it wasn't until that moment that Harrison had realized exactly how upset he'd been. Part of him wants to reach out and pull him in almost immediately; the other part of him doesn't feel like he has the right to do that anymore.
He'd figured that he would give Cisco an ample amount of crap over hiding that box in his backpack almost immediately, but that seems cruel now in the wake of his puffy eyes and streams of sniffles. The truth seems to die just as quickly in his throat though — too complicated for his doorstep, where they're both emotionally charged. It suddenly strikes him in that moment how incredibly lame his back and forth had been. Go through all the motions of leaving the universe, with the grand goodbye to all his friends and everything, and then end up changing his mind at nearly the very last second? Ridiculous. It's more complicated, he knows, but complicated isn't working right now.
Complicated is the silence hanging between the two of them as Harrison flounders, trying to find the exact words to explain what happened and why he's standing there in front of him now.
Better to start softly. ]
Turns out. [ He licks at his lips, searching for the words to explain, eyes flicking from the door to his feet to his face. It takes another moment and he doesn't look entirely satisfied with what he settles on saying, spreading his hands out in a gesture of acquiescence. ] I'm home.
[ He waits as Harry falters, searches for the words. It's something more complicated than a forgotten item, then. It's not another crisis - Zoom back from the dead, the multiverse collapsing, Jesse hurt, or whatever new horrors there might have been. Cisco's had ample opportunity to see how Harry acts when there's an urgent threat, and this isn't it. The closest analogue he can think of for how Harry is acting right now is the night after they'd found out Jay and Zoom were the same person. Harry had come to his door then with the same taciturn restlessness, the same inability to say what he was thinking.
Harry might not be a man of many words, but it isn't often that he hesitates to speak. And once he finally does, Cisco doesn't understand at first. His mouth as gone dry; he has to swallow a few times before he can speak, his voice soft but (fortunately) unwavering. ]
I don't- I don't understand.
[ Then, through the fog of sleep-deprivation and confusion and hurt, Cisco gets it. Or, at least, he thinks he does. But what if that is just pathetic, desperate hope, suggesting impossibilities? Cisco wants to believe it, but the hope hurts even more than the loss had. Harry can't mean that this is home, can he? Harry had made up his mind. Cisco had accepted that. He hadn't tried to argue, to hold onto him when he wanted to go.
His voice does shake a little as he asks: ]
Are you saying you're... back for good? You're not leaving, after all?
[ It's the "after all" that makes him pause, effectively deflating any momentum he had built up in the last few seconds. It's cruel, isn't it? To put them through all of that and then pull the rug out underneath them. It hadn't occurred to him until just now that him coming back after all that might not necessarily be a good thing. Allen had given him a wary look, though he'd chalked that up to Allen's general state of mind at the time. If travel wears a normal person down, then going through a breach twice in as many hours is ten times as tiring, and he can feel it wear on him.
Still, Harrison steels himself, pulls himself back together within seconds as he dips his head briefly, hands slipping into his coat pockets. As tired as he was, he was more tired of dancing around things trying to make them better — for Jesse, for Cisco, for any of them. It was easier if he just went with his gut. ]
Yes, Ramon. [ At that, he cocks his head to one side, raising an eyebrow. ] As a matter of fact. I am. Unless you think I'm standing out here on your Earth for some other reason. [ A beat. ] Allen was right, you look like hell. Bed, now.
[ He snaps his fingers at that — a gesture he used infrequently in the labs, mostly when he wanted to make a point and make it obnoxiously — pointing in the direction of his room. If he can at least stir something in Cisco, get the fight going in him again, well. That'll be a start. Enough of one, anyway. A step in the right direction. ]
[ When Harry snaps his fingers like that, Cisco isn't expecting it, and it startles him badly. He jumps, a tear that had been suspended finally skittering down his face. But there is a clarity in his eyes that wasn't there before - the annoyance cuts through that miasma of other emotions. And it neatly preempts any worries that might have been stirring that this is a time remnant, or a Harry from Earth-3, or a shapeshifting imposter like Hannibal Bates, or any of that.
There's no way you could fake that level of rudeness. ]
Did- you just. Snap in my face?
[ He looks affronted for a few seconds; like hell is he going to go where Harry is pointing, do what he says. If he looks like hell, well, it's Harry's own damn fault for it, for scaring him like that. For leaving.
But Cisco can't be angry at him. Not right now, anyway. Not when he'd just a few moments before been sobbing over how much he would miss him. He grabs Harry by the front of the shirt and hauls him inside the threshold, not even bothering to close the door before he's hugging him tightly. ]
I thought -
[ It's hard to get the words out, because the hope in his chest keeps growing, taking up more and more space. Harry says he is staying. That this is home. He's acting - like himself. His normal self, the way he'd been before he announced he would be leaving. Cisco is shaking but even now he can't quite believe it, can't let himself just be relieved. ]
[ He had every intention of asking him what he planned on doing about that, but Cisco beats him to the punch by pulling him in and hugging him fiercely. Harrison gives him a small, fond smile at that, wrapping his arms around him in turn, rubbing at his back lightly when he feels him start to shake. This is more like it. This feels right.
As for the rest of it— well. ]
You know, Ramon, that. That is a very funny story. [ He clears his throat. ] Which involves my daughter bawling me out in public — with, I should add, the actual Jay Garrick right there — after I found a certain box that had been slipped into my backpack without my knowledge.
[ He raises an eyebrow down at him, making it clear that despite what he may say, he's not really annoyed by it. It's more amusement than anything.
(though in this situation, if he doesn't laugh, he'll probably cry internally and he's so, so sick of that) ]
So. We talked it over. Jesse and a few of my assistants will take over S.T.A.R. Labs. She stays out of trouble while she finishes her degrees. My company can do some good. And I won't be there to stand in the way with my "stubbornness."
[ He's making light of it, but the truth is that they don't need him. They don't need his guilt, wouldn't know where to even begin to funnel it, and after the public display of a few months ago, with his name etched in fire in a few buildings, Jesse had very fairly pointed out that perhaps he'd be better off letting their world's injuries scab over before he starts picking at it.
It still hurts. Breathing is still difficult, knowing that Jesse is an entire universe away from him. But she's safe, she's healthy, she's focused and brilliant, and their Earth is better in her hands than it would have been his. He has to believe her, has to believe that much at least.
Which leaves him with this Earth. These people, his people. He pulls Cisco in a bit closer, tone softening just slightly. ]
Besides. I can't leave Joe alone with the three of you.
[ Cisco laughs - a tiny, shaky thing - when Harry says that Jesse had yelled at him in public. He can picture it easily; she really takes after her father in some ways. The fact that all that (and Harry's decision to come back) had been catalyzed by his gift is a little harder to wrap his head around. He had never thought, never would have predicted...]
Oh right, I shoulda guessed. Just a favor to Joe. Of course
[ His voice is still small and cracked from crying, but there's a thin note of sarcasm to it now, a trace of his usual humor. Cisco isn't fooled, not one bit. Harry had come back for them all. Joe, and Barry, and Caitlin, and him. Because in his own prickly and awkward way, he cares about them.
Which doesn't mean that it will be easy for him, being separated from his daughter. But, privately, elatedly, Cisco thinks this might actually be good for the two of them. It's not just his selfishness, causing him to think that. When he'd been Jesse's age, being apart from his family had been a precious and necessary thing. And even though there's no comparison, between the families, he feels like some space will probably do them good, too. ]
Any time you wanna talk to her, I'll project you over.
[ Harry's hand moving against his back is familiar and comforting. It takes less time than Cisco would have thought, for the shock to fade and for him to accept that Harry is back for good. But the fact is that Harry belongs here. On this Earth and with him - working and bickering and pretending to be mad about things that actually please him. Him saying he would leave, that had been the unnatural thing. This? Is easier to believe. ]
Thank you. For coming back.
[ It's difficult to make himself let go, but he does. There will be other chances to hold onto Harry. They have so much time, now. Cisco wipes at his eyes again with his sleeves and grins. The last 48 hours have certainly been an emotional rollercoaster. It feels like it's been a year since they beat Zoom, not just over a day. ]
[ He really doesn't. If anything, Harrison should probably be apologizing to him for putting him through the emotional wringer. But he's not one for apologies — at least, not unless they're absolutely necessary.
When Cisco pulls back, he keeps a hand on his shoulder, frowning slightly as Cisco wipes at his eyes. He reaches in with his own sleeve to wipe away anything else from Cisco's eyes, murmuring. ]
Look at you. You're a mess . . .
[ There's nothing accusatory in that statement, though. If anything, it's as close as he'll come to an apology, mild concern showing through in his eyes, in his voice. Of course Cisco had tried to be strong and held all of it in until he was gone. Of course he'd hole himself up in his apartment, so he could be miserable by himself. Harrison rubs at his shoulder with a thumb, then gives him a light push to turn him around, in the direction of his bedroom, and kicks the door shut behind him with his foot. ]
When did you last sleep? Don't answer that, I don't want to know. [ Another nudge at that. ] Bed. C'mon.
[ In any other situation, Cisco would probably object to being told that he looks like a mess. But today, he doesn't have a lot of fight in him, and he's sure that it's not just Harry antagonizing him for fun, the way he does sometimes. He feels like a mess. Cisco can feel that he is at that state of exhaustion where he doesn't even feel tired, consciously, but every movement takes extra effort, and every decision is agonizing.
So it's nice, having Harry turning him around by the shoulders and marching him back to his bedroom. It removes the necessity of needing to make that one decision for himself, for th[ ]e time being. He tries to hold back a yawn as they make their way down the hall. ]
I'm perfectly capable of pulling an all-nighter and functioning just fine...
[ Which he realizes a moment too late is actually answering the question Harry had said he didn't want answered. Oops. Oh well. He flops onto his messy bed, dragging the duvet over himself and saying: ]
Don't let me sleep too long.
[ At that point, the shock of Harry's return has sunk in enough for Cisco to think logistics. He'd already gotten rid of the other apartment, hadn't he? Or at least, put in mention the gears to do so, which could not be halted easily, without a lot of fuss and explanation. Hopefully, he asks: ]
[ Harrison rolls his eyes at that response. He already knew Cisco hadn't gotten any sleep, so it wasn't really a surprise. Hearing that was similar to getting a shock of static electricity after shuffling across a heavy carpet: shocking, but not completely shocking. He gives Cisco a push on his lower back as he flops, "helping" him get to his bed sooner, and then steps over to the window and draws the blinds. ]
You'll survive. [ A beat. ] Since when have you ever had a normal sleep schedule, anyway?
[ He lets out a snort, straightening a few things up here and there — throwing a pillow back onto the bed (underhanded, so it gracefully lands on top of Cisco), snatching up the coffee mug he'd left on the bedside table this morning (which, in hindsight, seems needlessly cruel, and he's quick to set it outside the door to throw in the dishwasher later), and scooping up a few articles of clothing and tossing them to the side in a pile. At that last question, he glances back over, raising an eyebrow. ]
I don't have anywhere else to go now, do I?
[ Which isn't entirely true. Now that Wally is aware of everything, Joe might be more amenable to letting him crash on his couch for a bit, at least until he worked out something else with an apartment. Snow had a basement. And when in doubt, he could always set himself back up in S.T.A.R. Labs and pull out a cot again. But none of those places really had a "home"-y feel to them. Granted, Cisco's apartment didn't either and in his opinion, it needed a fair amount of fixing up (he distinctly recalls it being cleaner before). But it could be.
Harrison pauses, then sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to pull the pillow off of Cisco and set it back at the head of the bed, before quietly clasping his hands in his lap. He doesn't have to sit there and stare at him until he sleeps, he knows — Cisco isn't him and he'll drift off soon enough. But he does feel responsible on some level. It's a powerful thing. ]
[ Cisco watches with only one eye cracked open as Harry goes back and forth, picking up things that aren't in anyone's way, throwing pillows on him, and futzing in general. He also thinks of the lab, of Joe's big, beautiful, comfortable house. Of a few other places all of which seem more convenient or luxurious than his messy apartment. But Harry says he is going to stay here, and Cisco can't help it: he smiles. ]
Good.
[ That smile only gets wider when Harry perches on the bed near him, quietly keeping him company. Any other day he might tease him for just sitting there watching him (and maybe he'll do it later, when he wakes up), but for now, Cisco is too too grateful for his presence to complain. Cisco keeps one hand tucked under his cheek, but he lets the other one come to rest near to Harry on the bed. Not touching him, but close enough that he could, if he just reached out his fingers. ]
You're really one to talk about- [ He is interrupted by a huge yawn ] -sleep schedules.
That's why I know you'll survive if you sleep for awhile.
[ Not one to back down from a challenge, Harrison slides his hand over to Cisco's, putting it over his. After a few minutes pass, he gives it a brief squeeze and stands, walking out of the room and closing the door quietly, and then shuffles off to put the dishes in the dishwasher. With any luck, Cisco would sleep until around dinnertime — hopefully anyway. Which raises the question of dinner. Under any other circumstance, Harrison would be quick to order takeout for the two of them and let that be that. But deep down inside, he still feels some amount of guilt over the last 24 hours. He'd have to make it up to Snow and Allen in some other way, but for Cisco . . .
Harrison opens up his fridge and immediately makes a face. It had been filled the last time they were there but then again, Jesse had done most of the shopping as the two of them wanted her to feel comfortable. Now— he wasn't even going to contemplate what he could possibly do with the current contents. With a sigh, he snatches Cisco's keys up from the counter and heads out to the van, pulling his baseball cap out of his backpack. An hour and one grocery run later, Harrison heads back into Cisco's place with his bags as well as a few bags of groceries. He sets his backpack and dufflebag near the master bedroom, to the side of the door, and then starts to put a few of the items away while setting some others to the side.
His eyes briefly flick over to his bags — namely, the dufflebag, the one he'd had shoved unceremoniously into his arms before he was brought back over. He hadn't really had the chance to go through it and take a look at the contents. Cisco would still be out for a bit; he could easily take his bags to the guest room and unpack there until they figured out a better arrangement, see for himself what Jesse had told Garrick to grab. But today had been exhausting enough already.
He shakes his head, turning back to the ingredients on the counter and starts working on a pasta — chopping up some tomatoes and onions, boiling the noodles, fixing up some ground beef to mix in. At one point, he stops eying the clock and mentally calculating how many hours Cisco has been out, focusing instead on stirring the sauce while the oven heats up, garlic bread slowly starting to brown. It had been awhile since he'd had the chance to cook — really, since he'd felt like cooking. There was something invigorating about it all. ]
[ When Cisco wakes up, it is disorienting at first. The details of the last few days take a moment or two to arrange themselves in his memory. Zoom, dead. Harry, leaving. Harry, coming back again. He sits up, rubs at his eyes, sees the bags sitting there in the hallway. Those must be Harry's things. At first Cisco thinks he may have gone, maybe to see Barry or Caitlin, when he hears the sound of the oven opening and closing.
Not gone, after all.
Cisco wanders out from the bedroom quietly, still groggy from his nap as he comes to join Harry in the kitchen. He stands out of the way, shoulder braced against the fridge, watching Harry going to and fro as he cooks. ]
That smells so amazing.
[ He feels like there are a lot of things the two of them ought to say. About the future. About things between them. But that all seems really heavy right now. So instead, Cisco simply offers: ]
Need help?
[ Cisco thinks that he could set the table, at the very least. Or... unearth the table from underneath the books and schematics and stray tools (he'd been sitting there all night working on Harry's watch) and then set it. ]
[ He stops stirring the sauce momentarily to glance over at Cisco, giving him a quick onceover. The nap seems to have been good enough — neither of them had ever really slept all that much anyway, so he wasn't too concerned one way or another. His eyes flick back over to the table, currently hosting half of Cisco's workbench, apparently. He'd been waiting for him to come in and clear it out because if he did it, the results would likely be . . . well. Messy. And mostly on the floor. Harrison nods over at it. ]
Yeah. You got a table there, Ramon?
[ Which is his way of asking him to clear it off, please and thank you.
In the meantime, Harrison pulls the bread out of the oven, then mixes the sauce in with the angel hair noodles. He pulls a noodle off the spoon and pops it in his mouth quickly — good enough. He didn't know that many recipes off the top of his head but there were a few that he'd learned to get down relatively pat over the years, and this was one of them. Satisfied, he scoops it onto two different plates, then quickly slices up the garlic bread. ]
[ There is a time for thorough and proper cleaning - Cisco knows that. His place might be messier than Harry likes, but he can keep it tidy enough when he wants to. It's just that he doesn't often want to, or have the time for it. And right now doesn't seem like the right time to carefully organize and put away every sheet of paper, every tool. So instead he stacks it all (neatly enough) and carries it off into the spare bedroom, to deal with later, sometime when Harry isn't holding delicious food that he would very much like to eat.
Then it's just a simple matter of setting out utensils and napkins and the rest. As he's pouring the water, Cisco has one moment of rather dizzying perspective. It's all just so... normal. Sitting down for a quiet dinner, with someone he cares about who is telling him they got groceries. So domestic and average. But it isn't. Not really. Because it's Harry and he hadn't just gotten groceries, he had crossed over from a parallel world and only a day ago the two of them had helped to stop a superpowered psychopath from destroying the multiverse, and it's so strange how the two can coexist at the very same time. ]
Thanks.
[ Even though he knows he doesn't have to make excuses, Cisco raises his eyebrows at Harry and says, drily: ]
Haven't had a lot of time to cook these last few weeks.
[ It really was a sprint to the finishing line, dealing with Zoom. Cisco's barely seen the inside of his apartment, since he re-opened the breach and all hell broke loose. Which makes it all the nicer to sit down to a home cooked meal and just... relax. Or try to. There's a small part of Cisco's mind that is still in crisis mode, still waiting for a call from Joe or Barry, something that'll require them to rush to the lab right away and leave that lovely-smelling garlic bread behind. ]
[ Harrison snorts at that, bringing the plates over to the table. He wasn't too bothered by the clutter — which, in his opinion, was a nice way of putting it. At worst, he was slightly annoyed by it, which therefore made it a fairly safe topic to rib him about. It used to be no holds bar between the two of them when they bickered with one another, from music choices to style to— anything, really. As the months passed and they grew fonder of one another, they seemed to scale back on that. It was like there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that certain things were off limits and if they accidentally tred on a landmine, well. Back off or else.
Which isn't to say Harrison's been perfect with that. His outburst a few weeks ago about how easily Cisco had caved to Allen seemed to cross some sort of line between the two of them, but he'd been too angry to accept it then and then, too busy recovering and planning to stop and think. ]
Imagine that.
[ He sits down and waits for Cisco to do the same, quiet. He'd had to keep busy today, or he would have driven himself mad. Internally, his mind is racing now — where's Jesse right now, what's she doing, is she okay, is she eating, is she by herself — a constant, muted stream of worry. It'll get better tomorrow. And moreso the next day, and the following day, and the one after that, he knows.
At least it's better than the massive question mark she'd been in his mind only a few months ago. ]
[ Cisco joins Harry at the table, smiles at him, briefly but brightly, before he digs in. It all tastes wonderful - simple but good, and the fact that Harry had made it for the two of them certainly doesn't hurt. For a little while the two of them eat in silence, and Cisco tries to adjust to the fact that this could happen every day. Well, maybe not every day. Knowing the two of them they'll get caught up in work soon enough. There will probably be metahuman attacks a crises to deal with, reasons for both of them to stay at S.T.A.R. Labs and settle for take-out.
Thinking about S.T.A.R. Labs raises another question in his mind - one that he mulls over for a few minutes before he asks: ]
So... what are we going to say to Barry and Caitlin and everybody, about you living here?
[ It's as neutral a way as he can think of, to ask the question that he really means: are we going to tell them about us? ]
[ It doesn't take a genius to know what Cisco's getting at by asking that question. Harrison leans back a bit as he considers it, chewing on a piece of bread idly. He'd wanted it kept quiet before because it was less complicated that way. They already had enough on their plates with Zoom and he didn't want to deal with any other drama on top of that. Because for as much as he knows Allen and Snow and even Joe, who'd caught on, Harrison has no idea how they'll even begin to react.
Telling Jesse was an extremely easy decision for him, in part because he had an idea of how she'd react to it and more importantly, how she'd react if he didn't tell her the first chance he got. She'd raised an eyebrow, punched his shoulder lightly, and then told him to never tell her anything ever about it again oh my god, Dad. But she'd said all of that with a mischievious look on her face, like she was more of a co-conspirator than anything else. It helped that she knew little to nothing about Eobard Thawne and his history with everyone at S.T.A.R. Labs.
Harrison swallows and then reaches up to wipe at his mouth with his napkin. ]
The truth.
[ He's not thrilled about it, and that shows on his face. But he's also pragmatic at times, and this is one of those times. Harrison glances over at Cisco and shrugs. ]
[ Cisco's not stupid, either. He knows that, if their friends react badly to the news that they are together, any outrage and anger will be directed at Harry, and not himself, no matter how much he insists it was his idea in the first place, that he practically bullied Harry into it. They know Cisco better than Harry, trust him more - even after everything Harry has done.
Besides, he knows it's easy for them to think of him as less capable and less mature than he is. That in some ways it's easy for them to see him as a victim, because they'd seen him like that in the past. They might not know everything that had gone on between him and Eobard (something he's profoundly grateful for), but they knew enough. They'd seen him at his lowest points - Harry never had. Just anticipating that concern, the hushed voices, rankles him, makes his pride sting.
But Harry has a point. They will figure it out sooner or later. The fact that they haven't yet is a small miracle - considering how many risks they have taken, how many times they've ended up tangled together kissing breathlessly in the workshop or med bay or an empty office. ]
Maybe it'll be good for them. Give 'em something to get their mind off...
[ He trails off and shrugs, but Harry will know what he means, he's sure. Get Barry's mind off his father being brutally murdered right in front of him. Get Caitlin's mind off being kidnapped and terrorized by a madman. ]
[ He heaves a sigh, looking— not so much annoyed or agitated, but resigned in a way. ]
I'm not— okay with it. But it's what we should do.
[ There's a pause as he considers that, then gestures vaguely with one hand. ]
I'm a private person, alright?
[ He's not trying to hide anything. It's not that he really cares too much about their reactions either, or the potential outrage that could come his way. It's more how they'll react, digging into his life and picking at the personal details, at the finer points. Those were his; his life wasn't some showcase for everyone to offer commentary on. He'd never talked about his wife before. It was like pulling teeth for them to get him to say anything about Jesse before she'd been rescued (though that was in part because it was all still raw, still painful). Harrison could say a million and one things about his opinions on his extended family, but he didn't. That wasn't up for discussion or on display for the world to see. He kept it close to his chest; the same goes for any relationship. It's theirs. ]
. . . maybe.
[ He leans back, trying to gauge Cisco's reaction to it all. ]
[ Cisco can recognize it by now: the difference between Harry going silent because he is dismissive of a topic, and Harry going silent because he is having some degree of trouble expressing himself, putting the words together in the order that he needs. So when he hears one of those kinds of pauses, he looks up, chewing away at the garlic bread while he waits for Harry to find his way.
And when Harry says he's a private person, Cisco merely smiles softly, just a hint of wryness in his voice as he adds: ]
I've noticed.
[ There is still so much he doesn't know about Harry's past. It was partly Harry's refusal to be open about his life that had lead Cisco to mistrust him so profoundly, when they had first met. Well, it had been a combination of Harry being unwilling to relinquish any details about his life while simultaneously dragging several of Cisco's secrets into the light. ]
We've got that in common.
[ Privacy, Cisco knows, looks different on him. He is a little more selective about what he decides to keep private, and about how he does so. Harry goes the full avoidance route, whereas Cisco is more likely to deflect, to distract and misdirect with humor. He goes overboard on things that he doesn't mind sharing, so he gives the impression of saying anything that comes into his head and holding nothing back. But he does. Harry still knows very little about his family; Barry and Caitlin know nothing about him and Eobard. He kept his powers hidden until Harry came along with that watch... ]
So what're you thinkin' - facebook announcement? Sky writing? Mass text? How we gonna do this?
[ Obviously none of those are real suggestions, but the question of how they should go about telling their friends is one that they ought to discuss. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
franciscoramon) wrote2015-02-21 01:38 am
no subject
There's nothing left to be done. Cisco's showered and shaved and gotten dressed already; he's already made Harry's gift and shoved it in an inconspicuous-looking box, tucked that box into Harry's backpack with a simple post-it that says 'to remember me by'. Cisco doesn't think he would have the courage to give it to Harry alone without crying, and if he did it in front of Barry or Caitlin... they'd gotten this far without knowing about him and Harry. Might as well leave it that way.
So he sits on the bed beside Harry, listening to the sounds of oncoming day and hating them. Harry looks so different when he's asleep. It's possible that watching him rest like this is creepy, but right now Cisco doesn't care. It's his last chance to do so.
The gift itself had probably been a bad idea, too. But it's getting to be a kind of tradition, and who is he to go against that? It's only a few small things. Some clearboard markers, a joke about all the times he made Cisco throw him one or get new ones. A tomato-sized rubbed ball with a bit of masking tape labelling it 'throw me'. A Big Belly Burger keychain, for obvious reasons. There's also a thumb-drive filled with pictures. Not just the few that Harry had allowed Cisco to take of the two of them together. Pictures of Harry with Barry and Caitlin that Cisco had taken, or of him talking with Joe, of Iris and Wally and Jesse.
And tucked in with the rest, Harry's metahuman detection watch. Cisco had felt a bit bad, taking it, but he'd been careful, making his adjustments. Wrapped around the band of the watch is another small note, explaining:
blue light + sound = breach nearby
blue and red light + vibrates = breacher nearby
Just because Zoom is gone doesn't mean there won't be more threats, and it had been easy enough, setting the watch to detect people or objects vibrating at the wrong frequency for Earth-2. Easy enough to work it in alongside the metahuman detection process. Cisco remembers when he hated this watch, and Harry for using it on him. Now, he takes comfort in tucking it away in that box, hoping it will keep Harry and Jesse safe.
When Harry finally starts to stir, it's almost 7 AM. Cisco brings in a mug of coffee for him, sets it on the bedside table - any other day he would have told Harry to go and get it his damn self, but there's no harm in being accommodating just for today. Not like he's setting any precedents that will matter. He bends down to kiss Harry's temple, smiling a little at the wild state of his hair. ]
no subject
Slowly, he sits up, taking the coffee from the side table and raising it towards Cisco briefly in muted thanks. He sips at it slowly, running his free hand through his hair a few times to make it borderline presentable, glancing briefly to the side to give Cisco a look. He already knows what he's thinking — or what he should be, anyway, which is some crack about not owning a comb. Harrison quietly muses over that for a moment before reaching over to stroke Cisco's hair slowly, brushing some of it back behind his ears.
He was never very good with words, but he hopes, at least, that his actions will speak volumes. I'll miss you. I didn't hate it here. I think I care about you. ... though perhaps silence is just as golden.
After a few minutes, once he's finished his coffee, he pulls away from Cisco and stands, setting the mug aside and scooping up his pants and his jacket. It takes him only a few minutes to really pull himself together, checking his appearance in the mirror briefly, then turns back towards him. There's two words that he really doesn't want to say at this very moment, but they're long past due. If they're late, he'll never hear the end of it from Jesse. ]
It's time.
no subject
But that's not the kind of thing he can think about right now. It's hard enough, enduring these final quiet moments together. He drops his gaze when his eyes start to get too wet, but no tears fall, so it's okay. When Harry gets up and starts getting dressed, Cisco gets the opportunity he needs to compose himself. He has to put on a normal face, a passable face, for their formal goodbye at S.T.A.R. Labs. The night had been theirs, and now it's back to playing the role of 'moderately sad teammate/ friend'. ]
You got your things?
[ When he sees that Harry has everything, Cisco shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, nods, and leads the way out of the apartment. Normally, if they're not talking about science, he is the one who fills up the silence with chatter. But he's not feeling talkative, this morning, so they make the drive back to S.T.A.R. Labs in silence. Cisco has settled into a kind of sleep-deprived numbness that he's grateful for. It'll help him save face for the fake goodbye. When they get up to the doors, Cisco stops. This is his last chance to say something to Harry, in private. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Eventually Cisco shakes his head and goes in, squaring his shoulders and forcing a smile that hopefully, Caitlin and Barry and the rest of them won't notice is miserable around the edges. ]
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.
no subject
He doesn't leave S.T.A.R. Labs right away. He sticks around, cleaning listlessly, trying to get work done but dropping whatever he picks up after only a few seconds. Work should be able to distract him. Since when has he not been able to take his mind off things with machines? But it's no use. So he slouches into the Cortex, tells Barry that he's going home. He gives some excuse, but he can't even remember what it was a moment after. Nothing seems to be sticking to his mind: it all slides off a moment later, leaving no impression.
Probably he shouldn't even be driving in this state, but he makes it back to his apartment without running over any small children or getting into any collisions. He shuts the door, kicks off his shoes. He's halfway to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee when he starts crying. It happens all at once - one moment, he is fine, and the next the dam inside him breaks. A kitchen floor seems like as good a place as any to have a cry, so Cisco sits down, his back against the fridge, and bawls his eyes out.
He hasn't cried like this in a long time - the intense stress of the last few weeks (months, he thinks) contributes some, as does the sleep deprivation. But it's also just because he can't picture his life tomorrow and the day after and the day after without Harry. Even before they had hooked up, he had become a permanent fixture at S.T.A.R. Labs. In Cisco's life. He can't think of the last time when a day has gone by and he hasn't seen Harry for at least a few minutes.
Cisco is still crying when the door rattles on its hinges, the loud knock startling him badly. What awful timing. Is it Joe, or Barry, did something else go wrong-
Then he hears that voice, and it just. Can't be.
Cisco dries his cheeks hastily with his sleeves and gets to his feet, rushing over to the door. Confusion mutes all other emotions, for the time being. They are suspended until he figures out what this is. For all he knows, Harry's forgotten something in his room, even though he checked. So Cisco opens the door, not saying anything at all. He knows already that his face will say plenty - that his eyes and nose are red from crying and he can't stop sniffing and he must look completely miserable. ]
no subject
He'd figured that he would give Cisco an ample amount of crap over hiding that box in his backpack almost immediately, but that seems cruel now in the wake of his puffy eyes and streams of sniffles. The truth seems to die just as quickly in his throat though — too complicated for his doorstep, where they're both emotionally charged. It suddenly strikes him in that moment how incredibly lame his back and forth had been. Go through all the motions of leaving the universe, with the grand goodbye to all his friends and everything, and then end up changing his mind at nearly the very last second? Ridiculous. It's more complicated, he knows, but complicated isn't working right now.
Complicated is the silence hanging between the two of them as Harrison flounders, trying to find the exact words to explain what happened and why he's standing there in front of him now.
Better to start softly. ]
Turns out. [ He licks at his lips, searching for the words to explain, eyes flicking from the door to his feet to his face. It takes another moment and he doesn't look entirely satisfied with what he settles on saying, spreading his hands out in a gesture of acquiescence. ] I'm home.
no subject
Harry might not be a man of many words, but it isn't often that he hesitates to speak. And once he finally does, Cisco doesn't understand at first. His mouth as gone dry; he has to swallow a few times before he can speak, his voice soft but (fortunately) unwavering. ]
I don't- I don't understand.
[ Then, through the fog of sleep-deprivation and confusion and hurt, Cisco gets it. Or, at least, he thinks he does. But what if that is just pathetic, desperate hope, suggesting impossibilities? Cisco wants to believe it, but the hope hurts even more than the loss had. Harry can't mean that this is home, can he? Harry had made up his mind. Cisco had accepted that. He hadn't tried to argue, to hold onto him when he wanted to go.
His voice does shake a little as he asks: ]
Are you saying you're... back for good? You're not leaving, after all?
no subject
Still, Harrison steels himself, pulls himself back together within seconds as he dips his head briefly, hands slipping into his coat pockets. As tired as he was, he was more tired of dancing around things trying to make them better — for Jesse, for Cisco, for any of them. It was easier if he just went with his gut. ]
Yes, Ramon. [ At that, he cocks his head to one side, raising an eyebrow. ] As a matter of fact. I am. Unless you think I'm standing out here on your Earth for some other reason. [ A beat. ] Allen was right, you look like hell. Bed, now.
[ He snaps his fingers at that — a gesture he used infrequently in the labs, mostly when he wanted to make a point and make it obnoxiously — pointing in the direction of his room. If he can at least stir something in Cisco, get the fight going in him again, well. That'll be a start. Enough of one, anyway. A step in the right direction. ]
no subject
There's no way you could fake that level of rudeness. ]
Did- you just. Snap in my face?
[ He looks affronted for a few seconds; like hell is he going to go where Harry is pointing, do what he says. If he looks like hell, well, it's Harry's own damn fault for it, for scaring him like that. For leaving.
But Cisco can't be angry at him. Not right now, anyway. Not when he'd just a few moments before been sobbing over how much he would miss him. He grabs Harry by the front of the shirt and hauls him inside the threshold, not even bothering to close the door before he's hugging him tightly. ]
I thought -
[ It's hard to get the words out, because the hope in his chest keeps growing, taking up more and more space. Harry says he is staying. That this is home. He's acting - like himself. His normal self, the way he'd been before he announced he would be leaving. Cisco is shaking but even now he can't quite believe it, can't let himself just be relieved. ]
What about Jesse? What about- all of it?
no subject
[ He had every intention of asking him what he planned on doing about that, but Cisco beats him to the punch by pulling him in and hugging him fiercely. Harrison gives him a small, fond smile at that, wrapping his arms around him in turn, rubbing at his back lightly when he feels him start to shake. This is more like it. This feels right.
As for the rest of it— well. ]
You know, Ramon, that. That is a very funny story. [ He clears his throat. ] Which involves my daughter bawling me out in public — with, I should add, the actual Jay Garrick right there — after I found a certain box that had been slipped into my backpack without my knowledge.
[ He raises an eyebrow down at him, making it clear that despite what he may say, he's not really annoyed by it. It's more amusement than anything.
(though in this situation, if he doesn't laugh, he'll probably cry internally and he's so, so sick of that) ]
So. We talked it over. Jesse and a few of my assistants will take over S.T.A.R. Labs. She stays out of trouble while she finishes her degrees. My company can do some good. And I won't be there to stand in the way with my "stubbornness."
[ He's making light of it, but the truth is that they don't need him. They don't need his guilt, wouldn't know where to even begin to funnel it, and after the public display of a few months ago, with his name etched in fire in a few buildings, Jesse had very fairly pointed out that perhaps he'd be better off letting their world's injuries scab over before he starts picking at it.
It still hurts. Breathing is still difficult, knowing that Jesse is an entire universe away from him. But she's safe, she's healthy, she's focused and brilliant, and their Earth is better in her hands than it would have been his. He has to believe her, has to believe that much at least.
Which leaves him with this Earth. These people, his people. He pulls Cisco in a bit closer, tone softening just slightly. ]
Besides. I can't leave Joe alone with the three of you.
no subject
Oh right, I shoulda guessed. Just a favor to Joe. Of course
[ His voice is still small and cracked from crying, but there's a thin note of sarcasm to it now, a trace of his usual humor. Cisco isn't fooled, not one bit. Harry had come back for them all. Joe, and Barry, and Caitlin, and him. Because in his own prickly and awkward way, he cares about them.
Which doesn't mean that it will be easy for him, being separated from his daughter. But, privately, elatedly, Cisco thinks this might actually be good for the two of them. It's not just his selfishness, causing him to think that. When he'd been Jesse's age, being apart from his family had been a precious and necessary thing. And even though there's no comparison, between the families, he feels like some space will probably do them good, too. ]
Any time you wanna talk to her, I'll project you over.
[ Harry's hand moving against his back is familiar and comforting. It takes less time than Cisco would have thought, for the shock to fade and for him to accept that Harry is back for good. But the fact is that Harry belongs here. On this Earth and with him - working and bickering and pretending to be mad about things that actually please him. Him saying he would leave, that had been the unnatural thing. This? Is easier to believe. ]
Thank you. For coming back.
[ It's difficult to make himself let go, but he does. There will be other chances to hold onto Harry. They have so much time, now. Cisco wipes at his eyes again with his sleeves and grins. The last 48 hours have certainly been an emotional rollercoaster. It feels like it's been a year since they beat Zoom, not just over a day. ]
no subject
[ He really doesn't. If anything, Harrison should probably be apologizing to him for putting him through the emotional wringer. But he's not one for apologies — at least, not unless they're absolutely necessary.
When Cisco pulls back, he keeps a hand on his shoulder, frowning slightly as Cisco wipes at his eyes. He reaches in with his own sleeve to wipe away anything else from Cisco's eyes, murmuring. ]
Look at you. You're a mess . . .
[ There's nothing accusatory in that statement, though. If anything, it's as close as he'll come to an apology, mild concern showing through in his eyes, in his voice. Of course Cisco had tried to be strong and held all of it in until he was gone. Of course he'd hole himself up in his apartment, so he could be miserable by himself. Harrison rubs at his shoulder with a thumb, then gives him a light push to turn him around, in the direction of his bedroom, and kicks the door shut behind him with his foot. ]
When did you last sleep? Don't answer that, I don't want to know. [ Another nudge at that. ] Bed. C'mon.
no subject
So it's nice, having Harry turning him around by the shoulders and marching him back to his bedroom. It removes the necessity of needing to make that one decision for himself, for th[ ]e time being. He tries to hold back a yawn as they make their way down the hall. ]
I'm perfectly capable of pulling an all-nighter and functioning just fine...
[ Which he realizes a moment too late is actually answering the question Harry had said he didn't want answered. Oops. Oh well. He flops onto his messy bed, dragging the duvet over himself and saying: ]
Don't let me sleep too long.
[ At that point, the shock of Harry's return has sunk in enough for Cisco to think logistics. He'd already gotten rid of the other apartment, hadn't he? Or at least, put in mention the gears to do so, which could not be halted easily, without a lot of fuss and explanation. Hopefully, he asks: ]
You're going to live here, aren't you?
no subject
You'll survive. [ A beat. ] Since when have you ever had a normal sleep schedule, anyway?
[ He lets out a snort, straightening a few things up here and there — throwing a pillow back onto the bed (underhanded, so it gracefully lands on top of Cisco), snatching up the coffee mug he'd left on the bedside table this morning (which, in hindsight, seems needlessly cruel, and he's quick to set it outside the door to throw in the dishwasher later), and scooping up a few articles of clothing and tossing them to the side in a pile. At that last question, he glances back over, raising an eyebrow. ]
I don't have anywhere else to go now, do I?
[ Which isn't entirely true. Now that Wally is aware of everything, Joe might be more amenable to letting him crash on his couch for a bit, at least until he worked out something else with an apartment. Snow had a basement. And when in doubt, he could always set himself back up in S.T.A.R. Labs and pull out a cot again. But none of those places really had a "home"-y feel to them. Granted, Cisco's apartment didn't either and in his opinion, it needed a fair amount of fixing up (he distinctly recalls it being cleaner before). But it could be.
Harrison pauses, then sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to pull the pillow off of Cisco and set it back at the head of the bed, before quietly clasping his hands in his lap. He doesn't have to sit there and stare at him until he sleeps, he knows — Cisco isn't him and he'll drift off soon enough. But he does feel responsible on some level. It's a powerful thing. ]
Yeah. I am.
no subject
Good.
[ That smile only gets wider when Harry perches on the bed near him, quietly keeping him company. Any other day he might tease him for just sitting there watching him (and maybe he'll do it later, when he wakes up), but for now, Cisco is too too grateful for his presence to complain. Cisco keeps one hand tucked under his cheek, but he lets the other one come to rest near to Harry on the bed. Not touching him, but close enough that he could, if he just reached out his fingers. ]
You're really one to talk about- [ He is interrupted by a huge yawn ] -sleep schedules.
no subject
[ Not one to back down from a challenge, Harrison slides his hand over to Cisco's, putting it over his. After a few minutes pass, he gives it a brief squeeze and stands, walking out of the room and closing the door quietly, and then shuffles off to put the dishes in the dishwasher. With any luck, Cisco would sleep until around dinnertime — hopefully anyway. Which raises the question of dinner. Under any other circumstance, Harrison would be quick to order takeout for the two of them and let that be that. But deep down inside, he still feels some amount of guilt over the last 24 hours. He'd have to make it up to Snow and Allen in some other way, but for Cisco . . .
Harrison opens up his fridge and immediately makes a face. It had been filled the last time they were there but then again, Jesse had done most of the shopping as the two of them wanted her to feel comfortable. Now— he wasn't even going to contemplate what he could possibly do with the current contents. With a sigh, he snatches Cisco's keys up from the counter and heads out to the van, pulling his baseball cap out of his backpack. An hour and one grocery run later, Harrison heads back into Cisco's place with his bags as well as a few bags of groceries. He sets his backpack and dufflebag near the master bedroom, to the side of the door, and then starts to put a few of the items away while setting some others to the side.
His eyes briefly flick over to his bags — namely, the dufflebag, the one he'd had shoved unceremoniously into his arms before he was brought back over. He hadn't really had the chance to go through it and take a look at the contents. Cisco would still be out for a bit; he could easily take his bags to the guest room and unpack there until they figured out a better arrangement, see for himself what Jesse had told Garrick to grab. But today had been exhausting enough already.
He shakes his head, turning back to the ingredients on the counter and starts working on a pasta — chopping up some tomatoes and onions, boiling the noodles, fixing up some ground beef to mix in. At one point, he stops eying the clock and mentally calculating how many hours Cisco has been out, focusing instead on stirring the sauce while the oven heats up, garlic bread slowly starting to brown. It had been awhile since he'd had the chance to cook — really, since he'd felt like cooking. There was something invigorating about it all. ]
no subject
Not gone, after all.
Cisco wanders out from the bedroom quietly, still groggy from his nap as he comes to join Harry in the kitchen. He stands out of the way, shoulder braced against the fridge, watching Harry going to and fro as he cooks. ]
That smells so amazing.
[ He feels like there are a lot of things the two of them ought to say. About the future. About things between them. But that all seems really heavy right now. So instead, Cisco simply offers: ]
Need help?
[ Cisco thinks that he could set the table, at the very least. Or... unearth the table from underneath the books and schematics and stray tools (he'd been sitting there all night working on Harry's watch) and then set it. ]
no subject
Yeah. You got a table there, Ramon?
[ Which is his way of asking him to clear it off, please and thank you.
In the meantime, Harrison pulls the bread out of the oven, then mixes the sauce in with the angel hair noodles. He pulls a noodle off the spoon and pops it in his mouth quickly — good enough. He didn't know that many recipes off the top of his head but there were a few that he'd learned to get down relatively pat over the years, and this was one of them. Satisfied, he scoops it onto two different plates, then quickly slices up the garlic bread. ]
I filled your refrigerator.
no subject
Then it's just a simple matter of setting out utensils and napkins and the rest. As he's pouring the water, Cisco has one moment of rather dizzying perspective. It's all just so... normal. Sitting down for a quiet dinner, with someone he cares about who is telling him they got groceries. So domestic and average. But it isn't. Not really. Because it's Harry and he hadn't just gotten groceries, he had crossed over from a parallel world and only a day ago the two of them had helped to stop a superpowered psychopath from destroying the multiverse, and it's so strange how the two can coexist at the very same time. ]
Thanks.
[ Even though he knows he doesn't have to make excuses, Cisco raises his eyebrows at Harry and says, drily: ]
Haven't had a lot of time to cook these last few weeks.
[ It really was a sprint to the finishing line, dealing with Zoom. Cisco's barely seen the inside of his apartment, since he re-opened the breach and all hell broke loose. Which makes it all the nicer to sit down to a home cooked meal and just... relax. Or try to. There's a small part of Cisco's mind that is still in crisis mode, still waiting for a call from Joe or Barry, something that'll require them to rush to the lab right away and leave that lovely-smelling garlic bread behind. ]
no subject
Which isn't to say Harrison's been perfect with that. His outburst a few weeks ago about how easily Cisco had caved to Allen seemed to cross some sort of line between the two of them, but he'd been too angry to accept it then and then, too busy recovering and planning to stop and think. ]
Imagine that.
[ He sits down and waits for Cisco to do the same, quiet. He'd had to keep busy today, or he would have driven himself mad. Internally, his mind is racing now — where's Jesse right now, what's she doing, is she okay, is she eating, is she by herself — a constant, muted stream of worry. It'll get better tomorrow. And moreso the next day, and the following day, and the one after that, he knows.
At least it's better than the massive question mark she'd been in his mind only a few months ago. ]
no subject
Thinking about S.T.A.R. Labs raises another question in his mind - one that he mulls over for a few minutes before he asks: ]
So... what are we going to say to Barry and Caitlin and everybody, about you living here?
[ It's as neutral a way as he can think of, to ask the question that he really means: are we going to tell them about us? ]
no subject
Telling Jesse was an extremely easy decision for him, in part because he had an idea of how she'd react to it and more importantly, how she'd react if he didn't tell her the first chance he got. She'd raised an eyebrow, punched his shoulder lightly, and then told him to never tell her anything ever about it again oh my god, Dad. But she'd said all of that with a mischievious look on her face, like she was more of a co-conspirator than anything else. It helped that she knew little to nothing about Eobard Thawne and his history with everyone at S.T.A.R. Labs.
Harrison swallows and then reaches up to wipe at his mouth with his napkin. ]
The truth.
[ He's not thrilled about it, and that shows on his face. But he's also pragmatic at times, and this is one of those times. Harrison glances over at Cisco and shrugs. ]
They're not stupid, Ramon.
no subject
[ Cisco's not stupid, either. He knows that, if their friends react badly to the news that they are together, any outrage and anger will be directed at Harry, and not himself, no matter how much he insists it was his idea in the first place, that he practically bullied Harry into it. They know Cisco better than Harry, trust him more - even after everything Harry has done.
Besides, he knows it's easy for them to think of him as less capable and less mature than he is. That in some ways it's easy for them to see him as a victim, because they'd seen him like that in the past. They might not know everything that had gone on between him and Eobard (something he's profoundly grateful for), but they knew enough. They'd seen him at his lowest points - Harry never had. Just anticipating that concern, the hushed voices, rankles him, makes his pride sting.
But Harry has a point. They will figure it out sooner or later. The fact that they haven't yet is a small miracle - considering how many risks they have taken, how many times they've ended up tangled together kissing breathlessly in the workshop or med bay or an empty office. ]
Maybe it'll be good for them. Give 'em something to get their mind off...
[ He trails off and shrugs, but Harry will know what he means, he's sure. Get Barry's mind off his father being brutally murdered right in front of him. Get Caitlin's mind off being kidnapped and terrorized by a madman. ]
no subject
I'm not— okay with it. But it's what we should do.
[ There's a pause as he considers that, then gestures vaguely with one hand. ]
I'm a private person, alright?
[ He's not trying to hide anything. It's not that he really cares too much about their reactions either, or the potential outrage that could come his way. It's more how they'll react, digging into his life and picking at the personal details, at the finer points. Those were his; his life wasn't some showcase for everyone to offer commentary on. He'd never talked about his wife before. It was like pulling teeth for them to get him to say anything about Jesse before she'd been rescued (though that was in part because it was all still raw, still painful). Harrison could say a million and one things about his opinions on his extended family, but he didn't. That wasn't up for discussion or on display for the world to see. He kept it close to his chest; the same goes for any relationship. It's theirs. ]
. . . maybe.
[ He leans back, trying to gauge Cisco's reaction to it all. ]
no subject
And when Harry says he's a private person, Cisco merely smiles softly, just a hint of wryness in his voice as he adds: ]
I've noticed.
[ There is still so much he doesn't know about Harry's past. It was partly Harry's refusal to be open about his life that had lead Cisco to mistrust him so profoundly, when they had first met. Well, it had been a combination of Harry being unwilling to relinquish any details about his life while simultaneously dragging several of Cisco's secrets into the light. ]
We've got that in common.
[ Privacy, Cisco knows, looks different on him. He is a little more selective about what he decides to keep private, and about how he does so. Harry goes the full avoidance route, whereas Cisco is more likely to deflect, to distract and misdirect with humor. He goes overboard on things that he doesn't mind sharing, so he gives the impression of saying anything that comes into his head and holding nothing back. But he does. Harry still knows very little about his family; Barry and Caitlin know nothing about him and Eobard. He kept his powers hidden until Harry came along with that watch... ]
So what're you thinkin' - facebook announcement? Sky writing? Mass text? How we gonna do this?
[ Obviously none of those are real suggestions, but the question of how they should go about telling their friends is one that they ought to discuss. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)