What wouldn't you do for your only daughter?
What Everest would you walk away from, what hell would stop you, what pains would you fail to endure for the sake of your child?
The answer: nothing.
You would die in the pursuit. You would do anything to save her.
"The faster the Flash gets stronger," Zoom says, utterly, chillingly flat, "the sooner your daughter goes home."
It's an ultimatum, one Harrison knows Zoom will honor without hesitation. He's seen what Zoom can do to Jay, to Barry, to anyone who stands in his way. Harrison wouldn't stand a chance; he would still be reaching for the gun as Zoom ripped his heart from his chest. He thinks, There are worse things than a quick death, but he's not the only one who could die.
He has no choice.
It's Jesse or Barry. And Jesse is his daughter.
"I'll help you," he whispers, and it's the one of the hardest things he's ever done. He's done a lot of terrible things –he created Zoom – but he's never had to lead someone to their demise, someone he knows, too well.
It would be easier to hate him if Harrison didn't know what his smile looks like, how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, how he brings them all coffee sometimes, how he claps Cisco on the back and hugs Caitlin and tells them things are going to be okay and makes it so. How he's a natural leader, a fighter, a person you can stand behind, someone who deserves to live a long life.
He's theirs, their son, their Flash.
He has to take him away from them. He has to.
For Jesse.
Her terror was so profound that he can't help the tears trailing down his cheeks as Zoom tells him what he has to do. Make him stronger. Make him faster.
Or she dies.
Then he's gone, and Harrison can't breathe, strains to draw air in on a cold, cloudless night when no one in the world can help him, somebody please, save her, help my daughter, and he sinks to his knees because he can't stand under the weight of it.
She's innocent, he thinks, shouts it, rage and fear maelstroming in his head. "She's innocent!"
He can't move, rooted to the spot, seeing her panicked expression and feeling the way her arms crushed him, pleading with him to stay because she knows it, too: Zoom will kill her slowly and horribly if Harrison doesn't do exactly what he wants. Even if he does, Harrison thinks, she could still die, out of spite, amusement, apathy.
Zoom doesn't care who gets burned.
Jesse could die if he's too slow, if he's too fast, if Zoom tires of all of them and just takes what he wants, because no one can stop him.
Barry is back on his feet, which is remarkable, but Harrison knows he's been weakened, his confidence shattered. He's still putting the pieces back together.
If Zoom could do that to someone like Barry, then Harrison doesn't want to think about what he could do to Jesse.
Zoom will destroy everything, Harrison knows. Surrendering Barry is the only chance he has of getting his daughter back alive, but they'll all burn once Barry is gone. Zoom will take his time with them; he might even spare their lives. But it won't be living. It'll be constant terror, knowing that everything could be taken from them in an instant, that they aren't strong enough to resist him, that every chance they have at normalcy is over.
But Jesse needs him. Jesse needs him to do what Zoom asks or Zoom will kill her.
Everything else is hypothetical, and it's the thought that pushes Harrison to his feet at last, cold and shaking, struggling to retain his footing as he staggers back to Star Labs.
He needs to start thinking, planning.
Zoom has to get what he wants. Barry has to get stronger, faster, saturated with Speed Force.
And then Barry has to die.
Harrison has to make it happen.
Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he lets out a ragged breath.
Zoom has to get what he wants.
Barry has to get stronger, faster, saturated with Speed Force.
And then . . . it hits him.
Zoom meant to kill Barry that night, but then something stopped him. Strengthening Barry was not originally part of his plan; his plan had been simple, decisive, and effective. Being thrown off didn't just bring him back with a vengeance: it caused him to change tactics.
The serum they hit him with had done something even Harrison couldn't have predicted: it scared Zoom.
So he was regrouping, biding his time, lying to himself into believing that he'd create the plan, that he had intended for Barry to become stronger, but Harrison saw the truth right in front of him.
Zoom hadn't expected actual resistance. The Flash had been a token effort, predictable, and Zoom had destroyed him. But they'd managed to hit him hard enough to bring him to his knees, to make him flee.
Zoom didn't plan this.
They'd pushed him hard enough that he'd needed to regroup. And Harrison knew how breathtakingly true-to-his-word Zoom was – he would kill Jesse for whatever reason he saw fit – but he was using Harrison's fear to his advantage, preying on it to hide the fact that he'd been beaten.
Resolve burns hot in Harrison's lungs, and he knows, with a strange, detached certainty, that he could die, but as long as Barry lives, they have a chance.
They will make him stronger, faster, saturated with Speed Force.
They will make him so fucking powerful even Zoom won't be able to catch him.
Even if it kills Barry in the effort, it will still save billions of people.
Zoom doesn't think they have it in them, but Harrison has a lot to lose, and desperation makes people fight harder. A cornered animal will fight to the death to escape.
Harrison will do anything to save his daughter and Barry will do anything to stop Zoom.
When Barry walks in Star Labs the next morning, Harrison smiles, exhausted but feeling strangely vindicated, just seeing Barry alive, knowing that they still have a chance to destroy Zoom.
"Hey, Harry," Barry greets, holding a cup holder loaded stacked with coffees. "Have you been here all night?"
He could tell him, could say you can stop him, but Harrison holds his tongue. If there's any hint that Barry isn't a sheep for the slaughter, then they'll lose whatever advantage they have and fail. Zoom cannot find out.
Barry just has to get stronger, and faster, and harness the Speed Force, and when he's ready: then he gets to fight like hell.
So Harrison doesn't tell him. Instead he smiles and says softly, "Scientific breakthroughs never sleep."
"I thought that was New York," Barry says idly, passing him a coffee and taking one for himself. He looks like he's about to ask what Harrison found when Cisco and Caitlin enter the main lab, arguing as per usual.
Cisco pauses mid-sentence when he sees the coffees, walks straight up to Barry, grabs his face, and kisses both cheeks. "Thank you," he says, taking three, and turning to face Caitlin, back to arguing as he passes her a cup, Barry grinning slightly as he takes a sip from his own cup.
They're such kids, Harrison thinks with an almost fond smile.
They're not his daughter, and he will never lose sight of the mountain in front of him, the hell he has to walk through, the pains they will inevitably endure – but they are, in a strange way, his family.
And he will do whatever it takes to stop Zoom from destroying their worlds.