Only Because I Need You

Harry Barry Bee

Cisco felt a small weight pressing down on his shoulders. He scurried into his lab, his curls were a mess of silky black hair. His desk was littered with nuts and bolt he had forgotten to tidy up. He pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead. How was he supposed to find what he needed. He began to shove about the loose papers and mechanical instruments that were scattered across his desk. His mind was rolling all over the place. He grumbled in annoyance, the documents he needed were not there. He took a step back and sucked in a deep breath. He clasped his hands behind the base of his skull.

A slight squeaking pulled his attention to the other side of the Lab. Harry was writing at an intense speed on his see-through whiteboard, his handwriting was messier than spaghettios and there were metal tools bent badly out of shape all around his feet. Cisco raised his eyebrows. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go near his friend with a ten foot pole, even then he would still probably have his head bitten off. Harry would have complained that the pole density wasn't accurate or that he was half a millimetre a way from ten feet. Cisco rolled his eyes imagining it. He let out a huff of air. He needed to help his friend, that was for sure, "alright, what's up?" Cisco asked as he crept closer to Harry.

"Nothing," the man snapped back. He hadn't even turned around to face his friend, he just continued to write furiously on the board.

Cisco jutted his jaw out to one side, "Well clearly somethings wrong because I haven't seen you break so many of my tools in quite some time," he huffed.

"Nothing is wrong," Harry spat out every syllable, still refusing to turn and look at his friend.

"Harry I can tell when you are mad," Cisco replied sharply, "just tell me,"

Harry slammed the pen down on a nearby countertop before swivelling on his heals. His fists were clenched tight and his form slightly haunched over to stare down at Cisco, "you want to know what's wrong?" He hissed, "then how about this, where the hell is Caitlin?" He raised his eyebrows. Cisco's mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes widened, he didn't need to take Harry's abuse, nor did he want to, "why are we wasting our time on Sonny when one of our friends is missing, alone and possibly trapped with a man who tried to murder Iris?" His voice was louder than usual. His whole form trembled slightly.

"Harry," Cisco kept his voice low. He was angry that Harry was nearly shouting at him, but he knew never to put out Fire with Fire, "we have no leads on Caitlin, we searched everywhere we possibly could,"

Harry's gaze fell to the floor and his shoulders slumped, "then why does it feel like we have abandoned her?" His voice squeaked slightly.

"We have not abandoned her," Cisco pulled his eyebrows together and crossed his arms over his chest, "We would never abandon Caitlin, we will always keep looking, but for now we have no leads," Harry squeezed his eyes shut, "Caitlin would want us to help Sonny, she wouldn't want us to run around like headless chickens on a wild goose chase looking for her when we could be helping someone else,"

Harry nodded his head, "I know," his voice was so hushed it was barely a whisper, "I know, I'm sorry," he turned back to the board and picked up his pen. He began to write on it much more calmly then before, but his hands still trembled.

"Harry we all feel the same way as you, we miss Caitlin and we are worried sick about her, but we need to help Sonny. If you need to talk to any of us, you can," Cisco told him firmly. His shoulders felt a little lighter than before. Harry barely nodded and continued his work. Cisco could tell that was the best he would get so he left their conversations at that.

Savitar felt the familiar electrifying charge of the speedforce dim to a soft buzz. The powerful lights of the arena blinded him as the audience roared in amusement. Another meta was laying crumpled on the floor in front of him. He seemed to have been held captive for a while, his clothes were a tattered mess and splattered with blood and dirt. His pale skin shone through the grime that coated him and his once bright hair hung in matted clumps. Savitar actually felt pity for him. He gritted his teeth. Being held captive was making the speedster soft. The man had not been much of a challenge. He had been able to manipulate rock and sand, but the element of earth was the slowest one of all. Savitar turned from his fallen opponent in the centre of the ring and began his trek back to his tunnel where the guards were waiting for him with an open gate. That was the warmest welcome he had experienced in years.