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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Someone is trying to make sense of the Not-STAR Labs and peers into the TV Room to find the strange writings all over the walls, the windows, even the tv and coffee table.

"...B?" she asks cautiously. It's not the B that she knows but it's one that looks like him. And she's always been close with the CSI.

"S.E.Two. Bart? No, I don't think so." This may be in response to her, but it may very well not be. Either way, he doesn't really look up from her drawing.

She moves over to where he's sitting, looking at the cryptograms around him. Crys cautiously crouches down by him.

"No, not Bart. I've met Bart." She's going to chalk this one up to a different Earth B. "...what are you drawing?"

"You can't wake up this, and this won't hurt more than a pinch. Cut the fuse, thank you. Oh!" A smile at her. "Hello."

She gives a hesitant smile back.

"Hello."

Crys is tempted to search through her pockets to find her penlight and see if he got through a concussion or something. Instead, she holds out her hand to him.

"I'm Crystal Raymond. You can call me Crys."

If she's expecting him to shake her hand, she may be waiting a bit. It's entirely possible they are not yet even in the same conversation. He does, however, pause at the name 'Raymond'. "Ronnie. Unstable nuclear fission was always a danger in the transmutation process."

Recognition is good!

"You know Ronnie? That's my dad. Firestorm?" she prompts.

"Their sacrifices were for you."

"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."

Becky still isn't sure how to feel about everything her brother had explained to her. Her head is still spinning something fierce as she wanders through other rooms in the lab she'd woke up in. Everything looks so sci-fi-flick-y, it's hard for her to believe any of it is even real.

She winds down a hallway and hears someone muttering something and follows the voice to a room filled with weird symbols she doesn't understand. She stands in the doorway, just staring at the stuff. "Whoa," she breathes out, a little amazed even though she doesn't know what any of it says.

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

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