Barry ran to the time vault, only to discover that the trap they had set for Wells wasn't actually a trap. Wells knew about it, knew of their suspicion against him, because he had surveillance on each person.

He zipped back to the Bunker, ordered (in a nice way) for Parker and Cisco to start searching for Iris on the FRS while Barry ran through the city to find her.

"I'll call if we find her," Parker assured.

"Same to you," Barry rushed out, and then he was gone, leaving a whoosh of wind behind.

Parker and Joe jumped into the elevator first. Joe dug his cell phone from his pocket, repeatedly dialing Iris' phone number. Parker copied his actions, instead, texting her to call one of them as soon as possible.

"Why wouldn't she be answering?" Joe muttered as they walked to the Cortex.

Parker raised her eyebrow, thinking of a few possible things Iris and Eddie could be doing that would keep them busy. Luckily, Joe hadn't caught her look.

Parker curled up in the main desk chair. While the computer flickered on, she searched through her cell phone for a picture of Iris. She found one, powered up the FRS and slid her phone underneath the document camera.

Caitlin on his heels, Cisco jogged into the Cortex. He saw Parker working with the FRS, leaving traffic and security cameras free. He loaded the program and found a picture of Iris offline, loading that into the search system.

With both systems caught at a loading screen, Cisco and Parker were forced to sit back and patiently wait.

"Did Eddie say where they were supposed to be?" Caitlin asked Joe.

Joe shook his head, a negative answer that nobody wanted.

The Bluetooth in Parker's ear was connected with the one in Barry's suit, which she had forgotten about until Barry cried, "Iris! Iris, it's me!"

"He found her," Parker announced. She reached across the desk and flipped on the speaker, allowing the others in on the conversation. "Barry, it's me, what's up?"

"He took Eddie!" By the hard-to-decipher words, Barry was already searching for the hostage.

"What did you do with Iris?" Joe asked.

"She's outside S.T.A.R. Labs, near the pier, I told her not to say anything."

"Which she will do the opposite of," Parker predicted. She glanced up at Joe, catching his eye. "You aren't needed here anymore. Feel free to hang out with your traumatized daughter."

Joe sent her an unhappy look—which she chose to ignore— and took his coat, shrugging it over his shoulders as he walked away at a fast pace, determined to soothe his daughter over her (possible) loss.

Parker changed the public cameras and FRS searches from Iris West to Eddie Thawne and Dr.Harrison Wells.

She manually clicked through dozens of security cameras quickly, her eye trained to search for zips of red lightning. Nothing of the sorts occurred.

The Cortex was silent for a full hour, the three waiting for a bell to chime from the computers. Barry returned at the end of the hour, with the same as they had to offer: absolutely nothing.

By the expectant look on Parker's face, Barry knew she was hoping for news, because he wore the same expression. Recognition clicked in their brains. Parker blew a puff of angry air from her nose. Barry ripped his mask off of his face, storming into another section of the Cortex.

"If you two want to retire for the night, you can," Parker told Caitlin and Cisco.

Caitlin laid a hand on Parker's shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Are you two going to be okay?" Cisco corrected.

Parker patted Caitlin's hand and stood. "Yeah, we'll be fine," she muttered, giving them a last wave.

She started towards the closed door. Without knocking, Parker twisted the knob and entered.

Barry was sitting on the treadmill, head in his hands. It seemed that position was normal for him in the past few months.

"Hey, kiddo," Parker greeted. She stayed leaning against the door.

"I'm older than you," Barry said, in a tone that sounded highly annoyed.

Parker narrowed her eyes at the back of his head. She took a deep breath, burying her anger against him, trying to focus on what she came to say.

"Anyway, I don't know how you're feeling, and I don't know how to fix it besides having the FRS look for Eddie."

"I should be searching too," Barry said. He sniffled, readying  himself to stand.

Parker made a noise of objection that kept him sitting. "Wrong. We're going to let the FRS do it, and in the mean time, I'm going to tell you about what I meant to say to you before everything happened."

"Speaking of that, you could have died."

"But I didn't, and I was correct to follow through with my hunch, so shut up."

Barry raised his eyebrows and held his hands up in surrender, falling silent. "Right. Arguing with you is pointless anyway."

Parker smiled to herself, proud he figured that out. In their time together, fights had occurred, mostly during his Flash activities, and it wasn't a surprise to find out who won every single time.

"You know how I always request to sit facing the door?" Parker asked, getting back on track.

Those simple words had piqued Barry's interest. He turned his head Parker's way, she nodded, assuring him the reveal was truly about to happen. He tilted his head, a gesture to continue.

"I get it from my dad," she said.

Barry tried to hide the momentary flash of surprise that took over his face. Parker hadn't talked about her dad ever to Barry, not that he pushed her too. If his mother was still a sore subject for him, he assumed she was the same about her father.

"My dad used to do it. I asked him once, why he and my mother always got to sit on that side. He said it was to watch the door, for danger, so he could warn my siblings and I if something happened."

"Good reasoning," Barry complimented.

"That's why I do it. It's this need, like a constant nagging at my head that there's a chance something could happen, and I need to be alert to warn people," Parker admitted, twiddling her thumbs awkwardly. "It freaks me out, honestly."

Coming off unimpressed, Barry asked, "Is that what you were going to tell me?"

"That, which leads into my story of farewells, but I guess it's not relevant, since I didn't just die," Parker said, her tone annoyed.

Barry shrugged. He scooted over a space, patting the empty spot. "It's not like we're doing anything."

Parker stared at the spot, then brought her eyes up to Barry. She shook her head slightly, content with the distance between them. A look of confusion crossed over his face, the reminder of a certain newspaper article reappeared in his head, and he nodded, humorlessly chuckling.

Before he could make a comment about their status romantically, which she knew was coming, Parker started to talk, wanting to avoid that conversation.

"If I ever to die doing this, you have to be the one to tell my family. Which sucks, for both you and them. I'd be the second person in the family to die early," Parker said. From the way her brow raised with surprise, she had only just connected those thoughts.

"What would you have me tell them?" Barry asked.

"Not your secret identity," Parker countered instantly, which made Barry laugh, and the corner of her mouth raise. "Just tell them I died helping people, helping the Flash. Or, that I helped that red streak become the Flash. Tell them I was happy. And that I don't regret a damn thing."

For a while, Parker and Barry looked at each other. From his distance, far, but close enough to see her watery eyes. Barry's left cheek was caving in, a sign of him biting it.

Their faces said it, however, Barry was the one to announce it: "This sucks."

"You're right about that," Parker mumbled.

Barry stood, hands running messily through his hair, stomping during his pacing. "No, I mean, Eddie missing and Wells playing us, it sucks. Iris is so close to finding out our secret, which just adds to the negatives." Barry stopped, throwing one hand up in defeat. "You and I.."

"We're not going to talk about it," Parker said loudly, her finger raised to shush him.

"Why?" Barry snapped, taking a step forward. "Why won't you?"

"We have bigger things to worry about, Barry. Right now, we're just.. in between," Parker said. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head in shame with herself. "Don't push it. When the right time comes, then we'll talk."

"What if it never comes?"

"Don't be so dramatic."