Once upon a time, on another earth, Conquistador Cortes ordered his men to burn the ships they had arrived in to ensure that the notion of retreat wasn't even a possibility in the minds of the crew. Victory was the only option. No going back.

Zoom had taken the same approach, mused Harrison as Earth-2 materialized around him. He burned any and all trace of metahumans existing peacefully in Central. Those metahumans who originally resisted were long dead, and with the carnage he had unleashed, his Central City would take extreme action before letting a metahuman rise to any sort of prominence. Any form of metahuman-city relations had been burned. The only option was to follow him to another earth. No going back.

As his feet found footing on the cold tile of Star Labs—his Star Labs—the grip that Garrick had on his hood disappeared as the speedster stepped back into the still-open vortex. Within a second, he was gone, racing against time and space to find his own universe, his own home. In another second, the breach was gone as well.

Jesse was already up and moving. She was already at the doors of the building where she had spent most of her childhood, pushing them open, letting herself finally feel that they were home for good. Then she halted. Even from the entrance to Star Labs, the oppressive silence that blanketed the entire town was painfully obvious. A city that once had a teeming nightlife seemed more like a ghost town. There were no lights on in office buildings, no sounds of both happy and miserable drunkards carousing late into the night, no scattered groups of disgruntled workers muttering about their odd hours. Nothing.

Both of them stood there for a while, observing. Finally, the silence was broken by a piece of trash being blown down the street, much like a tumbleweed casually seems to meander around a desert.

"I knew that things probably wouldn't be the same," Jesse started.

But you wanted them to be, Harrison thought. Aloud, he cut her off, hoping to end her train of thought. "Last time I was here, they announced a citywide curfew because of Zoom. Probably why no one is out and about."

She nodded. "So. How are you going to tell them? That, you know, he's gone. That we don't need a curfew anymore, or anything like it. How are you going to tell them that we can get back to normal?"

Harrison paused before saying anything—he heard the underlying plea in his daughter's question. When can we just forget about Zoom? When can we feel and act like he's truly gone? "Honey, he won't just go away. It's going to take time for people feel safe again. It's going to take time before the police have any real authority again, it's going to take time before anybody who didn't see him die will believe that he is dead."

With that, he turned around and went back into the building. He had work to do. Going home was not an option—he didn't even know if he still had a home for that matter. As Jesse went off to find something in the cafeteria to eat, he walked into his office and sunk into his chair.

He had so much to do, but he was so tired. Surely he could take a quick nap, sleep off defeating Zoom, jumping between realities, packing his tiny bag of belongings that he managed to acquire on the other earth. A small smile ghosted across his face as he remembered packing up his small room.

Harry bit his lip as her surveyed his room for the last time. He had never thought of himself as a sentimental person, but for some reason, he felt a sense of sadness over leaving this room, its medical cots with blankets thrown over them to seem more like beds suddenly seemed homey. Barry's mini-fridge from college that held sources of caffeine and whatever he had stolen from Cisco's workspace had become the fountain of life, and the Star Labs mug that he had grabbed from storage became priceless.

He didn't intend to do anything but quickly stuff his extra change of clothes into his backpack before leaving for home, but he found himself paralyzed in the doorway of the room he had spent the last several months in. He couldn't even call it his own, technically, it was Barry's, yet there was a sense of pride that came with this little room. He earned his spot on the team, he earned the trust that allowed him to live in a room instead of a cell in the pipeline.

For the first time, he felt that he didn't want to go back, which, looking in from the outside, was silly. Why shouldn't he want to go back? At home, he had his company, swing music, a house to call his own, independence, and co-workers who wouldn't put plastic snakes in his chair to make him jump. He did miss those things, especially living without fear of getting mistook for a serial killer and shot.

However, he did realize how much it would suck going from a vigilante who went from saving the world—all the worlds—to a businessman in less than a day. It would probably be maddening.

"You know, you could stay."

Lost in his thoughts, Harrison jumped to find Barry Allen standing right behind him. The young man had been through a lot in the past week—too much. He was haggard and stress practically bled out of him. Zoom was gone, but the shadow of his presence would never be gone from the young CSI's life.

He shook his head. "I came to stop Zoom, and find my daughter. I've done both."

Barry shrugged. "You're pretty useful. Might be nice. I mean, you don't seem to hate this earth, and we could totally use the help. I mean, I totally get wanting to go home, but the offer is there. Just so you know."

A part of Harrison was deeply tempted by the offer, but the reasonable side of his brain was already turning it down. "You don't need me, Barry. Not as much as my own Earth does."

Even though it was clear that was the expected answer, Barry looked a little hurt as he began to walk away.

Harrison knew he would never turn out to be the mentor or father figure that Barry do desperately wanted him to be, but there was a single part of him that was a father to someone else, and that part urged him to say a little more than he normally would.

"You know, you're wrong."

Barry stopped.

"You think think that you got the ability to run because you never could run fast enough as a kid. You think that you can run as fast as lightning because you were hit by it. You're wrong. You were given the ability to harness the speedforce not so you could run as fast as your heart desires, but so you could travel to as many places, and as many worlds as possible. To save people, to bring hope, because Barry, you have too much to offer to let it be contained to just one world. Never forget that."

Barry shot the encouragement down. "Then why do people like Eobard, or Zolomon get powers? How come the speed force is given to them, if it's supposed to only be given to good people?"

Harrison thought about it. "The speedforce might not be given to someone for the same reason. Sometimes, bad people are given good things. It won't help them in any way that matters, but in the end, those good things just form a gilded cage, and one day, that gilded cage will slam shut and never open again. Zoom? He will never get peace from his crimes, even in death. He's cursed to enforce the very rules that he reveled in breaking in life. He will forever run through time as a specter, a black racer. Eobard? He simply proved what people have said for centuries—that evil exists simply because good does. You were the good, and with that comes the reverse."

Barry cracked a grin. "When did you become all philosophical?"

"Eh. I picked it up from Joe."

Barry continued down the hall towards the cortex. "I don't see why you're packing. Like you said, I can open a route from your earth to mine anytime. Even if you do have to leave, it doesn't mean you can't come visit once in awhile."

Bone-tired, he swung out of the chair and forced himself to prepare for tomorrow—no, the rest of the morning. He opened a closet of clothes that he kept in his office for over-nighters, and slid off his jacket. Despite being available, casual jackets were not something that were encouraged, and the idea of wearing them for anything else than outdoor work was unthinkable on this—his—earth. He slipped on a dress shirt and threw on a suit jacket. After splashing water on his face, he combed his hair to the side and selected a red tie to wear as a bit of an inside joke. He didn't have any dress shoes readily available, so his tennis shoes would have to do.

A quick meal made him feel better, and after checking up on Jesse (who had crashed on one of the couches in the lobby) he settled back in his chair to watch the sun rise over Central City, heralding the start of a new day.