starlaboratories | (no subject)

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This version of Barry Allen has, essentially, completely taken over the Star Labs TV room. The walls, the coffee table, the windows and even the television are completely covered in these strange symbols resembling pictographs and other such things. Barry is, at this moment, sitting on the floor and drawing on it with that ever present chalk marker.

On top of the television, a pile of ice cream bar sticks and wrappers. Apparently he has been eating something, at least.

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"Their sacrifices?" she asks, confused.

"Ten seasons of Ross and Rachel." He draws a swirl next to a small square.

"B, what did they sacrifice?" she asks. She doesn't think they did but this Barry was spouting all sorts of things.

" Can't you see the castles burning?"

Castles burning? Crystal sits down with him, trying to figure that out. She wants to hug him so badly, not sure what kind of experience he had gone through to have his mind like this. Ten seasons of Ross and Rachel? What did all of it mean? She looks at teh symbols and cautiously reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder.

He looks at her for a moment, and it almost seems like he might say something that makes sense. But then he shakes his head. "He saved so many lives that day, and no one will ever know what he did."

She wonders who he's talking about. Quite possibly Ronnie from the way he looked earlier when she had mentioned Raymond. She lets go of his shoulder.

"The important people would know. How long have you been here?"

"Every hour, every minute." He gets up, moving to the couch. Apparently, it's breakdown from drawing. "The boy ate my ice cream, I didn't."

"Did...did you want more ice cream?" she asks. Crystal gets up as well but she doesn't move toward the couch. Instead, she watches his movements. "Have you gotten checked by a doctor yet?" The question is on the tip of her tongue: what happened to you, B?

Has he? Would he even know if he had been, or be able to tell her? "Everyone's fine."

"Not really," comes her automatic retort, "we're all kind of stuck here."

"Everyone's fine," he repeats. "The engine inside you has stopped turning."

"What engine?" she asks.

"Soul. Coal. Hole." He rubs one of his eyes, gets back up and goes back to drawing. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Barry," she calls out. She tries a different tactic and clears her throat, using her best doctor voice. "Mr. Allen."

"No. I don't know. Something like that, anyway." He does, however, pause.

She doesn't know him. Not in this capacity, not at this age.

"How about we get you some water to drink and something to eat? Other than ice cream bars."

"Am I hungry?" It might not even be a response towhat she asked?

"You could be. Is there anyone here you might know?"

"My own face. The light before the darkness."

"An earlier Barry, then." Maybe he could fix this...whatever this is.

"The light before the darkness," he repeats, a slight nod.

"Okay. I'll go get that Barry. And hopefully point him back to here. Then he might be able to help you?" she asks.

"Who's faster than the fastest man?" It's not...even remotely a response to her question.

"No one's faster than the fastest man I know," she replies proudly. She stops. Wait, that didn't sound as right as she thought it did.

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thishouseisbitchin - 2018-01-18 08:25 (UTC) - Expand

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froststorm - 2018-01-19 07:36 (UTC) - Expand

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