starlaboratories | (no subject)

(no subject)

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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"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.

"The next fastest man." Is it a joke? Is he trying to a joke? Oh, Barry.

THe corners of her lips turn up at that.

"Okay next fastest, then," she concedes. For now, she sits with him, thinking he might want the company.

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