Iris strode swiftly down the S.T.A.R. Labs hallway toward Cisco's workshop, the click of her heels on the concrete floor echoing with every step. She hoped he hadn't already clocked out and gone home for the day—not that there was much danger of that; it was only four in the afternoon, and given that he was now the sole remaining worker keeping the lab running while also moonlighting as a superhero, Cisco had been pulling longer shifts lately. He had a tendency to stay at the lab even after everyone else had gone home, so he could catch up on the projects he didn't have as much time to work on between training and working in the field, though Iris suspected that that wasn't his only reason for staying late. She didn't blame him.

It had been three weeks since Barry had gone into the Speed Force, and all the remaining members of Team Flash were dealing with that loss in their own ways. For her part, Iris had taken up the mantle of team leader and promptly thrown herself into her work, hoping it would make being without Barry easier. It didn't, but at least it gave her mind something to focus on besides missing him.

But right now, Wally had finished his training exercises for the day, her dad was at his office filing paperwork, Cecile had a big court case to work, and criminals in Central City seemed to be taking the day off, and now Barry was all she could think about. That was why she needed Cisco. There was no running from this newest wave of grief, which was already threatening to take her over—but she did have an idea for how she could lessen its impact, and she couldn't try it without him.

Turning the corner into Cisco's workshop, Iris was grateful to see that he was still here, tinkering away at a clunky looking machine on his worktable.

"Cisco, hey," she greeted him, keeping her tone neutral. She stopped a few feet away from him and stared at what he was working on, momentarily distracted from her mission. "What are you doing with the Speed Force bazooka?"

Cisco looked back and forth between Iris and the bazooka, looking a little caught off guard. "Oh. Uh…"

Iris could see the wheels turning in Cisco's head as he tried to think of a way to respond—probably trying to find the words to dumb down whatever complicated science stuff he was doing into plain English for her. Iris decided to save him the effort, since she didn't really care that much, anyway.

"Never mind," she said, much to his apparent relief. "I need your help with something. You've developed your abilities enough that you can take people into your vibes without needing someone to work the electrode halo, right?"

Cisco grinned. "Not only that," he said, looking a little pleased with himself, "but now I can fully access my powers without having to rely on my goggles or the gauntlets." Taking on a curious look, he asked, "Why? What's up?"

Iris took a deep breath. "I want you to vibe me to my first kiss with Barry," she said, hoping it didn't come out too rushed or too unsteadily.

Cisco looked a little puzzled by this request. "'Kay," he drawled. "When exactly was your first kiss again? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I wasn't present for that."

"You weren't," said Iris. "It was the night after you guys stopped the Rival. But I'm not talking about that one—I mean our first kiss ever. The one Barry said happened on the waterfront, just before he time traveled for the first time and erased it from history."

At that, a strange look came to Cisco's face. It left just as quickly as it had come, too fast for Iris to identify the emotion behind it, and it was soon replaced with a cautious, pensive look.

"Um," he started slowly after a moment's deliberation, "that was the one where he was trying to stop the tsunami? The one Mark Mardon made while he was holding Joe hostage?"

Iris nodded. "Yeah, that's right," she said.

Cisco frowned. "Why would you want to go back to that day?" he asked.

Iris shifted her eyes back and forth, blinking in perplexity. This was not the response she had expected. "Why wouldn't I?" she returned after a beat, unsure what else to say.

Cisco shrugged. "For the reasons I just mentioned?" he said. "I mean, romantic aspect aside, that probably wasn't the greatest experience. I know I wouldn't want to be standing so close to the shoreline when there was a huge tsunami headed my way that could potentially destroy the entire city. Plus, your dad was in danger. Aren't you concerned about how you might feel to be back there when all that is going on?"

Iris shook her head. "No, not at all," she said. "The tsunami had barely started. Barry said he didn't know what Mardon was planning until right after we had kissed. Besides, it's not like we'd be actually going back in time to be there, we'd just be watching it. And only the good parts, anyway."

Cisco nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, fair enough," he said. "But there's other reasons why it wouldn't be a good idea to go back there."

Iris scrunched her brow in confusion. "Like what?" she asked.

"Like…" Cisco had one hand on his hip, and he waved the other one around while he thought about it. "Other…reasons."

"Cisco—"

"I mean, I probably won't be able to vibe you there, anyway," he added. "My goggles have been malfunctioning lately, and it's gonna take some time to repair them."

Iris gave him an incredulous look, her patience starting to wane. "But you just said you could vibe without them," she pointed out.

Cisco froze for a moment, staring blankly at her and biting his lips as he failed to come up with a response.

"Well…y-yeah," he said finally, stammering a little. "But it might give me a headache."

Iris rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on," she said. "You've gotten so much better at using your powers without straining yourself, and this kind of thing doesn't usually take much effort, anyway. I'm positive that you'll be fine. I will personally supply the aspirin and compress if you're not, but I wouldn't ask you to do this in the first place if I really thought it would hurt you."

Cisco looked like he wanted to protest some more, but he didn't seem to have a counterargument for that point. Iris waited for him to respond, but instead he just avoided her gaze, fidgeting anxiously and saying nothing.

Iris shook her head. "Cisco, what is going on with you?" she asked. "Why does it feel like you're just giving me any excuse you can think of to not do this?"

He remained silent, and for a moment, she thought he had decided to ignore her completely. Then after a little hesitation, Cisco answered quietly, "Maybe I am."

Iris drew back slightly, stunned by this answer. It was honest at least, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. He really was just trying to get out of this any way that he could, even to the point that he was able to admit to what he was doing outright—but he had still yet to give her his real reason.

Iris clenched her jaw and swallowed, her eyes beginning to water lightly. "Why not?" she asked shortly, masking the hurt that she felt with an irate tone. "Why don't you want to help me?"

Cisco let his eyes meet hers for a moment, an uncertainty in his expression. "Because I—" he started, then abruptly cut himself off, looking extremely uncomfortable. He cast a look around the room, as though looking for a backdoor through which to escape this conversation, and when his gaze landed on the Speed Force bazooka, he lightly slapped his palm down on the top of it. "Because I'm very busy working on this," he said, sounding peculiarly like a high school theatre kid who was trying desperately to be convincing in a scene. "I already don't have enough time to work on it as it is, and I don't want to take away from what little time I do have. And you know, vibing takes a lot of energy, and it's already tiring enough trying to keep this lab running all by myself."

With that, looking tense and inexplicably rattled, he turned away from her and made his way over to a shelf that held some of his tools, searching—or at least trying to look like he was searching—for the next one that he needed.

Iris stared after him in disbelief. She didn't know what to think. Objectively, she knew that Cisco had no obligation to agree to vibing for her; it was his power, and he had every right to decide how and when he used it. But this was such a small favor to ask of him, and he was usually so helpful and accommodating. Why was he so against doing this one little thing for her?

Iris let out a sigh, blinking back the tears that had formed out of frustration, but were quickly growing with misery as her resolve to maintain a strong and invulnerable front faded. "Cisco, please," she said, hating that she sounded desperate, but knowing that it was what she was. "It'll only take a minute, if even that, and then you can go back to whatever you're doing. I just…" She sniffed. It was getting harder to hold her tears back now. "I miss Barry so much. And I may never get to make a new memory with him again."

Cisco's posture slackened a little at that.

"Sometimes it's hard just looking at pictures of him," Iris went on, "because it's all stuff I've already seen before, and that's just another reminder that he's gone, and that memories are all I have left. Our life together was supposed to be just starting, and now we don't get to have anniversaries or children, or even a wedding. I'd give anything to have him back, and if I can't have that, then I just want at least one more thing that's new."

She waited a few seconds, but it was like Cisco hadn't even heard her. He just remained stationary, not even pretending to be looking through his tools anymore.

Iris fought back a sob of hopelessness. She just didn't get it. What was the big deal? After all, he had lost Barry, too. He had lost several people, for that matter, and all in quick succession of each other. She had thought that he of all people would understand, and be all for getting to visit an unexplored moment from Barry's past. Barry was his best friend; surely he missed him almost as much as she did.

That thought gave Iris pause, and she began to rethink her entire view of the situation. What if that was the problem? The loss of Barry, Caitlin, and H.R. had been hard on everyone, Cisco especially, but he had barely said a word to Iris about how he was feeling. What if it was just too soon? Maybe she was asking too much of Cisco. Maybe seeing Barry again right now would be too painful for him.

Feeling a slight twinge of guilt for not having considered that possibility before, she opened her mouth to tell him that it was okay and he could just forget about it, but just then, Cisco turned around to face her, his expression different. He made his way back over to her, and then, with a heavy sigh, he held out his right hand, palm up.

"Give me your hand."

Iris looked down at Cisco's hand and then back up at his face in confusion. "What are you—"

"Just do it before I change my mind," Cisco interrupted, but the look in his eyes was soft, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, giving Iris the impression that he didn't really have any intention of changing his mind.

Iris was still confused as to what had prompted this sudden one-eighty, but she didn't question it. She placed her hand in Cisco's, and once his hand closed around hers, her vision flickered, the workshop disappearing in flashes of blue light.

Another instant later, she found herself standing close to the pier on an overcast day, looking out at a boat that was directly under a patch of swirling clouds that were darker than the rest in the sky. That must be where Mardon had been holding her dad.

Iris turned around, looking for her past self, and she found her almost immediately, wearing one of her favorite green coats and standing next to a past version of Barry, who was staring out at the water with a worried look on his face.

Iris dropped Cisco's hand and moved closer toward them, vaguely aware that Cisco was walking with her, and she saw past-Barry turn to past-Iris, reaching out to take her by the hands.

"Iris, you need to get out of here, okay?" past-Barry said, growing visibly antsier by the moment, and past-Iris looked up at him confusedly. "You need to get as far away from here as possible."

"I am not leaving you," past-Iris declared stubbornly.

"Iris, please!"

"Listen to me—ever since the night that you told me how you felt, I have not been able to stop thinking about you."

Past-Barry's expression changed. He seemed to forget his anxiety for the moment and became entranced with what past-Iris was saying.

"At first I was really mad," past-Iris went on, "and then I realized that the reason that I couldn't stop thinking about you, was because I didn't want to."

Iris couldn't help but smile a little. Sometimes looking back on past versions of herself could be embarrassing—being reminded of what she had been like before she'd had as much maturity, style, or sense—but the words her past self was saying now resonated deeply with her, even though she knew she had never spoken them in the current timeline. She remembered very well how mixed up she had felt about Barry and Eddie, and how difficult it had been to come to terms with the fact that she loved Barry, not just as a friend, but as the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Clearly she had come to that realization much sooner in this past timeline, but the emotional struggle leading up to it had been more or less the same.

Past-Barry smiled, a tender look in his eyes. "I've never stopped thinking about you."

Iris's heart fluttered in her chest as she watched the look that passed between the two of them. She knew exactly how past-Iris was feeling in this moment, because it was the same way that she always felt when Barry looked at her like that—only this time there was a little something more, because she had just realized that she was in love, and that Barry, despite his claims, was still in love with her, too.

As Iris watched, past-Barry reached forward, gently cupping the back of past-Iris's head with his hand, and they both gravitated toward each other, meeting in the middle with a kiss.

It was like the whole world had stopped. The sky was still growing darker and the sound of the waves louder as Mardon's plan started to come together, but Iris barely noticed as she was too caught up in the wonder of the moment, watching the kiss that, until now, only Barry had had any memory of. It was everything that Iris had hoped it would be, and more.

Barry's tender touch was so familiar that Iris could almost feel it; the way he brought his other hand up to get a better hold on past-Iris and draw her closer, and the way he pulled back just for a moment, only to kiss her again, more ardently—all his little ways of telling her over and over again that he loved her, without ever saying a word—it all made Iris's heart soar, and she let out a contented sigh. He really had loved her that much this whole time, hadn't he? It seemed so obvious now; she didn't know how she could have ever been unable to see it before.

Iris had almost forgotten that Cisco was still standing beside her, and she was only still aware of his presence now because she could feel his gaze on her. She didn't turn to face him, though; she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene playing out before her. She felt like she was witnessing something sacred, and like looking away for anything would ruin the magic of the moment.

Cisco seemed to feel the same way, because if he needed something, he didn't say so, or do anything to try to get her attention. He just stood by quietly, letting her savor the moment. Out of the corner of her eye, Iris noticed him turn his attention back toward past-Barry and past-Iris, and after a moment, she felt his hand come to rest on her shoulder.

All too soon, past-Barry and past-Iris pulled apart, smiling as they gazed into each other's eyes and looking like they wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever. But the storm brewing over the water quickly pulled their attention away from each other, and they were forced to face the danger they were in once more.

The scene flickered again, and Iris closed her eyes, trying to hold the image of Barry's loving smile in her mind as Cisco ended the vibe. When she opened her eyes again, she and Cisco were no longer standing side by side, but facing each other, their right hands still clasped in each other's.

As they both let go, Iris breathed in and out deeply, disoriented by the sudden change in her surroundings. Not focusing her eyes on anything, she tried to take in everything she had just witnessed and commit it to her memory before her mind could readjust to being back in the present.

"Are you okay?" Cisco asked cautiously after a moment.

Iris nodded, still staring off into space. "Yeah," she replied absently. "Yeah, I think that was just what I needed."

There was a pause, and then Cisco said softly, "I'm sorry I was stubborn before."

At that, Iris looked up and met Cisco's eyes, snapping out of the daze she'd been in. He was studying her carefully and wearing a look that was a little concerned and unnecessarily guilty.

Iris gave him a small smile of reassurance. She still found his earlier behavior a bit confusing, but whatever had been the reason behind it, it didn't matter anymore. He had come through for her after all, in spite of his own hangups on the matter, and that said more about him than whatever had held him back before. "It's okay," she said, waving it off. "Thank you for changing your mind."

Cisco just gave her a nod and a half-smile.

Iris tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand shaking a little. She could feel the emotion brought on by the vibe swelling within her, and she knew she needed to be alone to properly process it. "Um, I'm gonna go out and get some air," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Or when the next metahuman attacks the city, whichever comes first," she added with a little forced chuckle. And with that, she turned and started for the door, her mind and heart both racing.

"Iris?"

She paused and turned back around at the sound of her name.

Having caught her attention, Cisco took a couple of tentative steps toward Iris, absently twisting his fingers together. "If you ever want me to vibe you there again," he said slowly, "or to any memory with Barry…" He shrugged. "Just say the word."

The offer was so thoughtful and unexpected that for a moment, Iris didn't know how to react. She was about to let out a simple and hasty "thanks" and be off on her way again to avoid getting too emotional, but she suddenly found that she was too overwhelmed to get the word out without falling to pieces. She tried for a moment to collect herself so she could respond, but the look in Cisco's eyes now was so warm and sincere that all her attempts to keep her composure came crashing down. He could see right through her—and once Iris realized that, it fully sank in that he really meant what he'd just said.

Before she knew what she was doing, Iris found herself crossing the room once again and throwing her arms around Cisco.

Cisco hugged her back at once, placing one hand on her shoulder and rubbing it up and down soothingly.

Iris squeezed her eyes shut, letting go of her strong façade for the moment and just letting herself be comforted. The heels on her shoes put her right at Cisco's height, but she rested her head against his shoulder anyway, not caring that she had to stoop a little to do so. "Thank you," she breathed as tears began to roll down her cheeks. "You're such a good friend, Cisco."

Cisco made a noncommittal humming sound and he tilted his head side to side. "It's what I'm here for," he said simply.

Iris let out a small puff of incredulity, shaking her head. Typical Cisco, brushing off the slightest bit of praise as if it didn't come well-deserved. For a genius, he could be such an idiot sometimes. "I love you," she said softly, nestling closer to him.

She felt him stop breathing for a second, apparently caught by surprise. He really shouldn't have been, Iris thought, but then again, it made sense; Cisco was a very demonstrative person himself, but given his strained relationship with his family, he probably wasn't accustomed to hearing that sentence directed at him too often.

Cisco didn't say anything in return, but Iris didn't need him to; just the fact that he was there for her was enough. She noticed that he did hug her a little tighter afterward, though.

Iris wasn't sure how much longer they stood there like that; she only knew that the hug lasted as long as she needed it to and not a moment less.

After a little while, when it felt like they were both ready, they eventually drifted apart, Cisco giving her arm one last little rub before letting her go.

"You sure you're okay?" Cisco asked, looking Iris over with concern. "Do you need anything?"

Iris sniffed and wiped her tears away, shaking her head. "Yeah, no, I'm fine. Really." She paused a moment to clear her throat, and then she added a bit unsteadily: "Uh, what about you? Does your head hurt any, or…?"

Cisco waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, I'm all good," he returned. "Totally headache-free."

"Good," Iris said, nodding. "That's good. Well, I'll, uh," she gestured toward the bazooka, "leave you to get back to that thing now. Good luck on whatever it is you're doing with it."

Cisco just nodded in reply, smiling a little.

And without another word, just a quick grin to reassure him that she really was fine, Iris turned to leave again, this time making it out of the workshop and heading for the exit.

As she walked, she let the memory of the kiss replay itself in her head, along with Cisco's promise that he would take her back to see it again whenever she wanted. It wasn't the same as having Barry back, but it was something special, and it was more than she'd had before. For now, it would just have to be enough.

Cisco waited until Iris's footsteps faded out of his earshot, then he turned back to his worktable. He made a couple of final adjustments to the Speed Force bazooka, and then—with a furtive look over his shoulder to make doubly sure she was gone—he covered it with a sheet. He had hit a roadblock with it, and until he heard back from Harry, there wasn't much more he could do except to protect the parts from gathering dust.

He didn't know if Iris had fully bought his excuse for not wanting to vibe her to that erased timeline, but fortunately she didn't seem to suspect his real reason. She wasn't dumb, though, so he could only hope that she wouldn't eventually figure it out. If she did, then she might not ask him to vibe her there again, and Cisco didn't want to take this new coping method away from her now that he knew how much it meant to her.

Besides, he still wasn't quite comfortable talking to her about this just yet. It wasn't that he didn't trust her or that she wasn't a good enough friend; it was just that Barry and Caitlin had been the ones he'd always turned to regarding this particular issue, and they had reached a point where he'd been able to tell either one of them that he was having a bad day using as few words as possible, and they would understand. Whereas with Iris, there was more that would have to be said out loud. Some days that wasn't a problem, but today was the kind of day where Cisco didn't want to talk about it, or think about it, or acknowledge in any way that it had even happened at all.

Cisco let out a long, slow breath, the memory at the edge of his mind igniting his nerves. He had vibed that day so many times against his will, and he had feared that revisiting it on purpose—even at a different moment and in a different location—would force his mind back there, and he would have to see and feel everything he had already gone through all over again.

But he had made it to Barry and Iris's first kiss without encountering any unpleasant visions along the way, and made it back out of the vibe just as safely. He called that a success, and it made him confident that he would be able to do it again the next time Iris asked him to.

Even as Cisco marveled at his ability to avoid reliving his worst memory, he could hear the voice in his head, almost as clearly as if it were really speaking again: In many ways, you have shown me what it's like to have a son.

Cisco blinked and shook his head rapidly, staving off the thought before it could evolve into a full blown flashback or a vibe. No, he thought forcefully, fighting back against his own mind. He wasn't back there. Thawne wasn't in the room with him. He was safe. It was over.

Cisco hugged his arms to his chest and slowly massaged the spot over his now racing heart with one hand. Then he closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh of defeat. So much for not thinking about it.

He opened his eyes again, his gaze traveling automatically to the framed photo on his desk of the first Team Flash, and it gave him a sharp pang of longing. It was moments like this that made his best friends' absence all the more painful. He missed Caitlin's calm, reassuring voice reminding him that it was just a memory and that the danger had passed; he missed Barry's gentle grip on his shoulder as he promised to stay by his side until his nerves settled down and he felt safe again. He wished desperately that they were both still here so he wouldn't have to go through this alone—but he was alone, and Barry and Caitlin were long gone.

Cisco reached a stiff hand up and raked it through his hair, taking deep breaths to try and steady his heartbeat, which right now was so turbulent it was making him nauseous. It wasn't easy when he felt like he had to force the air in and out of his lungs. Having his murder dragged up again always left him paralyzed on the outside but screaming on the inside, just like he had been the moment it had happened, and getting himself centered again was always a challenge—often an exhausting one at that. But if he could just keep his mind grounded in the present, and focus on getting his body to follow suit, then he could end this episode on his own, and then hopefully get on with his day without the spectre of the Reverse Flash hanging over him constantly.

Being in the comforting atmosphere of his workshop helped. This was his favorite place to escape to whenever he was scared or upset, and he felt almost as at home here as he did in his own bedroom. He just kept his eyes fixed on Barry and Caitlin's faces in the photograph, and tuned into his other senses as well, taking in the whirr of every electrical device in the room, the smell of metal and oil that permeated the air, and the chill of the draft coming in from the vent above him. The more that he could immerse himself in the moment, the sooner he could make the terror go away.

He ran his hand through his hair again, and as he did, he caught a whiff of Iris's perfume that was still lingering on his sleeve—some concoction with a name like Sparkling Million Midnight Wishes or some such nonsense that Caitlin had bought her for her birthday—and he zoned in on that scent, trying to reclaim the sense of serenity he'd had just moments ago.

Prior to almost being thrown into a flashback, Cisco had actually felt more at ease than he had in weeks. He was supposed to have been the one comforting Iris, not the other way around, but in all honesty, he had probably needed it just as much as she had.

It was easy for Cisco to forget that, despite losing the two people closest to him, he was still needed and wanted by the rest of Team Flash. Yes, he was Vibe, yes, he was Mr. Fix-It, and yes, he was the one they all looked to when Wally needed advising on applying physics to fighting crime. But he was also the only team member left who wasn't a West, and he couldn't help but let that get to his head every now and then. Even Cecile, the newest addition to the team who was technically a Horton, seemed to have more right to a place on the team than he did because she was the woman Joe loved, and she was as good as Iris and Wally's stepmom by now. They were all a family, and sometimes the lack of an official connection to them gave Cisco the feeling that he was of lesser importance. And he knew that Barry had regarded him as part of the family, and had seemed confident that that feeling extended to the others as well—but since Barry had been the link connecting them, in his absence, Cisco had begun to feel out of place, fearing that maybe his status as a member of the Team Flash family wasn't as cemented as he'd once thought.

But, as Iris had just reminded him, the Wests were not the Ramons; they all valued what Cisco had to bring to the table, and they all respected and appreciated him, in spite of (or perhaps because of) the things that made him different from the rest of them.

Cisco exhaled, a small smile forming on his face as relief set in. It was working. He was breathing easier now, and his pounding heart had finally started to slow down. Maybe he wasn't as alone as he'd thought.

He continued to work on calming himself for the next few minutes, keeping his mind on Iris and the rest of his friends, and little by little, tension melted into tranquility, and fear and loneliness were replaced with warmth and a sense of belonging, one that had been lost until a hug and three words had brought it back.

It took him a while to get his heart rate back to normal, and even after he had, his movements were still a bit stiff as he smoothed out the locks that he had disarrayed moments before, but at least the worst was finally over. The Reverse Flash was no longer dominating his thoughts, and his little bout of imposter syndrome had been assuaged. His coordination would return on its own, and getting his hands busy on another project would help with that.

With a smirk, Cisco put on his best Gandalf voice and said, "'Your fingers would remember their own strength better if they grasped your sword.'" Then he chuckled to himself, thinking it a shame that there was no one around to appreciate the reference. But then, even if they were here, there was a good chance they wouldn't have gotten it, anyway.

Barry would get it, he thought.

Ready to put his current train of thought behind him and move on, Cisco picked up a pencil and a sketchpad that were sitting on his worktable. Then without really thinking about what he was doing, he began to sketch out a new design for the Flash suit, one that had been simmering in the back of his mind for a few days now. There was no telling how long it would take him to get the bazooka ready to rescue Barry from the Speed Force, but when he did, he would have a few surprises waiting for him.

Soon enough, Cisco had his pencil flying smoothly over the paper as he lost himself in a whirlwind of ideas for upgrades to the suit.

Lately whenever he was fixing or creating something in his workshop, there was a certain frenetic energy that had taken to coming over him, like he was racing to meet some self-imposed deadline—like his whole world would fall apart if he didn't get it finished in time. But he could work in peace today, knowing that no matter how long it took him to figure out the mechanics of this new suit, or how best to get Barry and Caitlin back, he would still have Iris, and he would still have Joe and Wally, and his friends across the multiverse, he might have a new girlfriend (jury was still out on that one, they hadn't really had the whole DTR conversation yet), and he had a feeling Cecile would become close to him in time, too. And though he wouldn't rest until his family was complete again—or at least as complete as he could make it—the one that he already had was pretty great as it was.

But that didn't mean he was going to tell them about his mini panic attack today, he determined with an unconscious shake of his head. No, definitely not. He had handled it just fine on his own this time, and Iris really didn't need to be burdened with the realization that the same day she'd had her first kiss with Barry was also the day Cisco had died. It was fine. He could handle facing his trauma without help for the time being, and vibing her to that day would surely be easier next time, anyway, as he would be more prepared. He'd be okay, he was certain.

Besides, he thought with a smile as he recalled the looks on Barry and Iris's faces just before they had kissed, maybe it was time to start remembering that day for something good for a change.