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[reactant]

ID: hanyolo

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[reactant]

scale of 1-10 how charmed was he

[breacher]

he started talking about his bad back

[reactant]

that's good right? communication's important for a healthy sex life

[ living up to the yolo tbh. ]

[breacher]

i am not going to discuss the physics of having sex on a table with you but i will point out that the line doesn't necessarily indicate the positioning and immediately hate myself for it.

[reactant]

if it's any consolation i immediately hate myself for this conversation too

still not deleting the text, though.

[breacher]

At least you're stuck with this.

It sent out several for me. To Cisco, Eddie, Thawne, and a few others.

[reactant]

thawne. not eddie thawne?

[ Of course not Eddie, it says it right there. ]

everything good?

[breacher]

[ He pauses when he gets that message, because he knows he shouldn't mess with timelines. If he's meant to know, he'll find out eventually, but Barry knows more right now. So maybe— ]

I'm going to ask you something and all I want is you to honestly answer me, "yes" or "no."

[reactant]

[ The answer's quick, no hesitation. ]

yeah, of course. go ahead.

[breacher]

Have I met Eobard Thawne before? On your Earth.

[reactant]

no.

[ Technically. That isn't a lie, because this Harry hasn't — but it still feels dishonest. ]

not yet.

[breacher]

Will I?

[ He shouldn't push it. There's nothing to be gained, but he has to know, and "not yet" — that's not enough of an answer for him. ]

Barry, please.

[reactant]

[ Barry isn't hesitant to answer, exactly. Harry deserves to know, and it might not impact anything.

But that's the problem. Just because there won't be consequences back home doesn't mean there won't be any here, and he isn't sure if knowing will make things better or worse for Harry in the meantime. Except Harry's asking, and he's probably got a reason — and there's only one other person who knows they've met. Better to hear it from Barry. ]

you will.

you met him earlier on his timeline. before he came after me and my mom. we caught him, but we had to send him back to his time.

[ He could say more. He could explain the timeline, could explain what happened to Cisco, but even typing out that much is a stretch. ]

[breacher]

[ Harrison's breath catches when the message comes in and he swallows hard, resisting the urge to send his device hurtling across the room. It won't fix anything. There was probably a reason — it had to have been something that couldn't have been helped, for him to make a step like that — but whatever it was meant that he'd effectively signed the death certificates for the Harrison Wells and Tess Morgan of Earth-1.

It takes about ten minutes or so for him to compose himself, taking in a few deep breaths to steady himself, before he taps out a message. ]

Alright.

Thank you.

[reactant]

[ The delay's expected, but the answer still feels lackluster when he gets it — it's short, civil. Barry drags a hand over his jaw and considers answering with either nothing or something just as distant. That feels bizarrely dishonest, too.

Harry had said there was nothing they could do about it. They couldn't stop Eobard's future when it was already in their past. But the way he'd said it had said plenty, the I, that silent admission that he'd been complicit in Harrison Wells' death. ]

i'm here if you need to talk.

[ Harry won't take him up on the offer, but he doesn't regret sending it. ]

[breacher]

[ There's no response for at least an hour. Harrison had every intention of letting it lay there. But then again, he'd also had every intention of not having the day go disasterously wrong. Which it does. Which usually seems to be the case with him these days. And in the near future too, apparently.

He stares long and hard at his device, pulling Barry's last message up and chewing at his lip idly. It was just a formality. It was just a polite way of ending the conversation. Harrison eyes it flatly, then taps out a message quickly and sends it before he can stop himself. ]

There's nothing else to say.

[reactant]

for whatever it's worth, none of it's on you.

[ It isn't worth much. Barry knows that the same way he knows he'll never be able to give up his own guilt — over his mom's death. Over Eddie and Ronnie and literally everything that's happened since they let Eobard walk out of that cell.

And he might not ever completely believe Joe and Iris and everyone else when they try to shoulder some of the blame, try to convince him it isn't his fault — but it still matters, having them there to say it. Another delay, though this one's short. ]

cisco almost died because of me. you're the only reason he's still alive. you made the right call. or you will, i guess.

[breacher]

[ It's probably good that he's alone at the moment, because Harrison lets out a bitter laugh when he receives Barry's messages. Of course he made the right call — he's been making the "right call" his whole life, no matter what happens to everyone else, himself included. That's what got them into this whole mess to begin with.

He rubs at his face with a hand, then sends off a few rapid-fire texts. ]

The right call isn't always the best one, Barry.

But I'm glad to hear I made the right one when it came to Cisco.

(don't tell him that.)

The fact remains. Harrison Wells and Tess Morgan's blood are on my hands, not to mention any future they would have had. And I have to live with that.

[reactant]

[ The first text earns a surprising spark of anger, because he knows that — he knows it so well that he hates himself for it, and having it offered up like a lesson feels patronizing even though he knows it isn't. But Barry knows that anger's misplaced, and it's easy enough to swallow when it's chased by that simple admission of affection for Cisco.

Now it's his turn to almost drop the conversation, again, and the text he finally ends up sending is one he regrets quickly. ]

yeah, well if you figure out how, let me know. i could use some tips.

[ It isn't the honesty he regrets. It's the fact that it's flippant, crass, making light of the blood on both of their hands. ]

[breacher]

seems like you're the one that needs to talk to someone.

[breacher]

i do too.

[ It's not an easy admission, not by far. ]

[reactant]

[ He actually has to read that one twice. ]

where are you right now?

[breacher]

[ It takes about twenty or so minutes for him to respond, but eventually: ]

My workshop

You should come

[ For Harrison, that's like practically begging for someone to come over. ]

[reactant]

give me 10 minutes.

[ It's less than that. Barry pauses for a second outside the door, dragging a hand back through his hair to fix the mess that always follows running — and to give him a second to get his thoughts together, because he isn't entirely sure what to expect on the other side.

Then he knocks, gives it two seconds, and turns the key in the lock before pushing the door to the workshop open. ]

[breacher]

[ Oddly enough, the workshop isn't a mess. Nothing's been thrown, there's nothing shattered on the ground, and everything appears to be in its right place. The clear board sits in the corner, half-written equations on it with one marker on the ground, like it was dropped and rolled back under the board's stand. Harrison sits at the work table, at the chair closest to the board. His face is ashen and he looks shaken in general, like he's still trying to calm himself down. His device is sitting on the table, face down, and buzzes once, noting a message received.

Harrison's eyes flick over to the door when it opens, tensing up briefly before he remembers that the door was locked, so it could only be one person. Hopefully. He draws himself up, straightening his back and resting a hand on the table to still it, giving him a nod as a greeting. ]

Barry.