[ barry is back in deerington after having lived all of season 5 of the flash. what a great time that was trying to discern what emotion chris klein was giving off for a long twenty-four episodes.

as for our emotive speedster, he's feeling a little pensive. the weight of the multiverse is weighing down on his shoulders (thanks, monitor dude) and he'd felt his daughter disappear right between his hands, dissipating into little flakes as time caught up and destroyed her. despite the heaviness weighing him down, he's upbeat. he's barry motherfucking allen, after all.

he's out in his expansive backyard in clarke acres, sitting on the stoop of his house. a golden retriever puppy runs up and down the stairs, sometimes sparking a little like she's got some sort of superpowers. 😉 ]

What would you do if you were given the news that you only had thirty days left to live? What would you do with your remaining days? Bullshirt answers are welcome, too. But I'd genuinely like to know. [ he smiles a little lopsidedly. for those who are familiar with barry, his sparkle isn't quite as blinding as it usually is. he's trying to see the glass as half full and not incredibly intimidatingly empty. ]

Me? I'd like to eat all the Big Belly Burgers in Central City and meet Beyonce. [ the golden retriever puppy, who is conveniently named beyonce, barks behind him. barry turns to look at her with a laugh. ] Not you, Bee.

[ bee barks once, twice. how unfortunate for him. she's amazing. ]

I'd also like to know how people remember those who have gone here. My daughter… [ his hand blocks his mouth and he wipes his face hard. he shrugs, hand falling away, and paints on a very big smile. ] well, I'd just like to remember her.