Hallow

[run_barry]

Arriving in his room in a soft 'WHOOSH', Barry balances a tray with a shining cloche over it in one hand and closes the door with the other. He hadn't really planned on coming to Milliways but, when he got to his apartment and found the place bare it was a trip to the bar or Big Belly and Big Belly doesn't run tabs.

Still struggling with guilt and the aftermath of his episode brought on by Bivalo, and reeling from the confrontation with Eddie, Barry isn't much up for socializing and Bar was kind enough to oblige with a take-out order, which Barry has brought upstairs; looking to decompress a little after a long few days. He doesn't much feel like food, but the metabolism of a speedster can only be put off for so long before it gets demanding so Barry is resigned to eating.

When he removes the cover from the tray Bar gave him, Barry's hit with a wave of melancholic nostalgia so strong his knee actually buckles a little. Staring at the dish of macaroni and cheese in a red bowl rounded by painted dinosaurs, Barry feels whatever appetite he had vanish.

Shaking his head, Barry puts the cover back on and tries not to feel wounded. He's sure Bar had good intentions, providing a meal from childhood that seems so familiar it might as well have come out of his mother's kitchen, but after everything lately the last thing Barry needed was to take another hit, this one from the past.

The tray stays covered where it's at on the table in the small kitchenette area and Barry retires to the bed. He doesn't realize how exhausted and worn through he feels until his head hits the pillow, and then he's out like a light.

He's not sure how late it is when his eyes blink open (but then it's Milliways, what does time even mean in this place?), and he's not quite sure what's dragged him out of sleep. It takes a full minute for his eyes to adjust to the soft light in the room, and then he hears it, soft humming.

Looking around the room he sees there's a lamp burning near the doorway. He's just about to puzzle that when he notices someone sitting in a chair beside the lamp, her soft voice carrying through the empty space between them.

"Mom?"

His heart freezes and all the air leaves his lungs. Barry's so shocked and startled he doesn't even realize he's gearing up to run; lightning dancing over his body and sparking in his wide-open eyes as he stares.

And then she smiles at him and speaks, and the lightning snuffs out, his lungs unseize, and his heart starts going again at a gentle cadence in his chest.

"Hello, my beautiful boy."

Barry sits up in bed, throwing his legs out and sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking over at his mother who's sitting in a chair just across the room, looking every bit what he remembers of her.

"Hi," he says, his voice and brain betraying him as there's so much more he wants to say in this moment, but none of it comes out.

"You haven't eaten," she notes.

Barry throws a guilty look at the tray still sitting on the table and shakes his head.

"What's wrong?" his mother asks.

Barry keeps shaking his head until finally everything comes bursting out. A sob catches in his throat and his expression crumbles as he turns back to his mother.

"I've made such a mess of everything," he tells her, feeling guilty and ashamed and so damn lost. "I tried so hard to be a hero, but then I let this bad guy mess with me and I betrayed my friends and I hurt them. The police and the city are all afraid of me and Iris-- Iris doesn't want anything to do with me and she doesn't even know because-- because I haven't told her and now I can't because if I do it'll just put her in even more danger than I've already put her in."

Unbearing all the weight he's been carrying on his shoulders and had pressing on his chest, Barry finds it hard to catch his breath. He's gasping for air when his mother crosses the room, and she puts her hands out to him; sliding her smooth palms along his cheeks, cradling his head.

"Barry, it's okay," she tells him as Barry leans into the warmth of her hands and tender touch. "You can't keep blaming yourself for things you cannot change. Your friends understand, and they'll come around. Everyone else will be believing in you soon enough. And Iris, oh Barry, you could never lose her."

"I've made so many mistakes, I don't know how to fix it," Barry says to her, shaking his head miserably.

"The good that you do, and will do for people will far outweigh any bad," his mother tells him, swiping her thumb against his damp cheek. "Especially because you know in your heart what's right and will always try to follow it."

Working his throat, Barry bows his head in his mother's hands. "I feel like such a fraud. I have these amazing gifts, but knowing now the awful things I could do with them, and how useless I am without them, I feel like I don't even deserve them at all. I'm not a real hero."

Gently, Barry's mom turns his head up so that he'll look at her. Smiling down at him, she gives a very short shake of her head.

"Your powers may grant you the ability to do amazing things, Barry," she tells him kindly, "but it has always been your spirit that has made you a hero. It's like I told you before, 'it's better to have a good heart, than fast legs.'."

Barry looks up at her earnestly and says, "I just want you to be proud of me."

"I have always been proud of you," she replies. "And I always will be."

She gets him to eat then, the macaroni somehow still warm and good, and tucks him back into bed.

As she smoothes the covers just below his chest Barry looks upon her and says, "I miss you, mom."

She reaches a hand up to card through his hair, then bends to press a kiss to his forehead, whispering against his brow, "My beautiful boy, I am always with you."

-----

Waking to an empty room in the morning is bittersweet, but as Barry sheds the vestiges of his first night of sound sleep in awhile, and gathers the dishes to wash and take back to Bar, he feels a renewed sense of purpose and hope fluttering in his chest.

He doesn't even wonder at what point he finally ate. He feels better, and he's ready again to face what's out there. To keep working, and learning, and running; to be the hero he's sure now that he can be.