Entry tags:
The Great Escapes
Since Yamato offered to come to Central City and help with the epidemic crisis, things have been crazy, but handling them has been a whole lot easier now that Barry isn't operating alone.
He even got some rest in, on Yamato's orders, and they've got a bit of down time as far as emergencies in the city go so they're using it to work on other problems.
While Yamato recalibrates the S.T.A.R. Labs satellite to track the new meta they suspect is behind a whole bunch of the crime, and a death-trap or two set for Barry, Barry is getting his science nerd-amateur virologist on, trying to find a cure to the bug that has so much of the City down; including his team.
Sitting at a desk in the Cortex, Barry works away with a microscope taking notes on a tablet. Beside him are several boxes of chicken nuggets which he's working through, with a few empty ones already in the waste bin nearby.
In the middle of the space on the floor GP the porg is munching on shrimp treats while bopping around an inflatable S.T.A.R. Labs beach ball.
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"Am I wrong?" He fires back, detached expression breaking into a scowl. He forces himself to relent after a moment, looking to one side and blowing out a frustrated breath. "Sorry. It was a dickish thing for me to say. I just meant ..." He doesn't know exactly what he meant, so he just gives a terse shrug.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and shutting his eye. "You're right. I know you're right," he says. "But it doesn't feel that way. And I hate that you got hurt."
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"Whatever," he replies in the space after Yamato trails off.
Standing, Barry cradles his forearm to keep the rest from jostling. The room tilts a little, but he keeps himself upright and straight.
"You know what I don't hate? Not being dead," he counters. "The bank, the cash office, and the basement? I wouldn't have gotten out of any of those situations without your help."
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"Give yourself some more credit," he says, tone going gruff again. "You'd have figured something out."
His gaze flicks up to Barry's arm, just for a few seconds. A little more gently: "Do you need painkillers? Or -- would they even work, if you did?"
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Instead he shakes his head to Yamato's offer.
"No, I metabolize them out too quickly," he says, his own tone not softening much. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up, grab a shirt. Cisco has another suit around here so I'll find that. Gonna need it when we go after this guy."
With that Barry exits, still holding his arm he speeds off to other parts of the compound to change and maybe give himself and Yamato a minute or two.
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Picking up the bloody jacket he had been wearing, he frowns at it while examining the damage and the mess.
"Cisco is gonna be pissed," he murmurs.
Dropping the suit out of the way to be dealt with later, he finally looks at Yamato.
"Anymore of those juices left?" he asks.
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He jerks his chin towards the rucksack by the chair, pausing in his pacing. "We've got seven left. Help yourself. Take a meal bar while you're at it."
He's stopped moving now, but he's still not looking at Barry, and his entire body is tensed up, with one heel tapping against the floor as though he's barely keeping himself still.
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Walking over to the bag, Barry pulls out a bottle and a bar. Opening the bottle, Barry watches Yamato for a moment before asking, "Everything alright?"
Obviously not, which makes him worried.
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He does look at Barry after that next question, just for a moment out of the corner of his eye. "I should be asking you that. You've got a hole in your arm, after all."
Turning back towards the wall, he makes a frustrated noise, scuffing his foot against the floor, and just slightly shifting his weight from foot to foot. He's a bit of a nervous ball of energy right now.
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Glancing at his arm, the bandage visible just beneath his shirt sleeve, he shrugs his other shoulder.
"It's fine. Still hurts, but with the bullet out now it's started healing."
Tugging his sleeve down, he looks back over at Yamato again.
"Still wondering about you, though," he says. "What's up?"
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"I'm just frustrated. And angry at myself," he sighs, turning towards Barry a little and arching an eyebrow. "And I figured I'd pissed you off."
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Considering the situation and his feelings on it, Barry finally shakes his head.
"No. I mean, I'm frustrated and mad, too, but that's not aimed at you. Mostly."
A beat, and he admits, "People have been ragging on me for being a nice guy my whole life, and I let it go. Never let it change who I am. But when a friend throws it in my face like it's a bad thing? I don't appreciate that."
Even in those times when maybe they're right.
In this situation though, Barry is still convinced the things that happened weren't Yamato's fault. Barry just has no idea how to make Yamato see it that way.
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He pauses, scraping a hand across the back of his neck.
"Hey, if you want to make yourself feel better by punching me in the jaw, that might even convince me you're not a nice guy. Win-win, right?"
He's joking, mostly.
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"I never really thought of myself as that hard to read." But then, maybe there are some things he doesn't say, or holds in, or doesn't act upon.
Surprised at the thought, Barry shakes his head to push it aside for now and refocuses on Yamato.
"But I am a nice guy," he says. "And punching you would definitely not make me feel better. Catching Camera Commander though, would."
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That they escaped is something of an injury to Yamato's pride, not to mention something he feels compelled to atone for, and both show in his tone.
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He pauses, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I can look over the place he's in and come up with a plan of attack," he says. "I mean, if you trust me to."
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Rather than run that path again, Barry gives Yamato a serious look and says simply, "Do it."
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"Well, you're in charge. If you trust me with this, guess I have no choice but to defer to your judgement, right?" He remarks, wryly. "It'll take a while, but I'll figure out a plan. And, er. Thanks."
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"Of course I do," he says about trusting Yamato. "You work on that, I'm gonna cram some calories and then check in and make sure CCPD picked up the guys we left for them."
Barry did sort of leave all the escapees scattered around the place.
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"And I won't," he adds about his arm, letting out a chuckle before he makes a speedy exit.
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"Joe is doing alright. He's still feeling pretty lousy, but he ate something," Barry says. "Iris was asleep, but Joe said she's doing okay."
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He turns in his chair, settling back in it a little. "That's good. They might be getting better. Or if they're not, at least they're weathering it okay. How're you feeling? Not coming down with the sniffles or anything?"
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