A/N: Hello, everyone! Special thanks to all those who have read my stories, and even more special thanks to all my wonderful reviewers. You make my day. :)

This story is mostly me trying to make sense of a poor character whose substance has been sacrificed for comic relief. The rest of it is me trying to make sense of a potentially great scene that completely fell short of my expectations, in large part because of the random, illogical, and cringe inducing out of place lines of the aforementioned character. I suppose, technically, it's an AU, because the lines aren't exact. Really, it's more of a scene rewrite that mostly follows the original, just with less utter ridiculousness. I hope you enjoy it, and it's worth posting my rambles on here. Reviews make me happy, and are encouraged, though not required. :)

Naldo had always been different.

Ever since he could remember, there was something the separated him from kids his age. Or any kids. People in general, really. Most of the time, he was okay with it, or, at least, he managed to convince himself that he was. He'd just sigh slightly, adjust his ever-present hat, and skip away from whichever group of people had rejected him. He didn't care, he told himself. He was better off without the normal people. Heck, he was better off /than/ they were. He was special, and they weren't. He couldn't blame then for being jealous, he reasoned.

And yet, underneath it all, Naldo was lonely. He was always alone, never accepted or really understood, even by his own family. They were all normal, and even Naldo's own mother grew nervous whenever he was around, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do with him. But she, at least, tried to understand him, tried to make him comfortable. She bought her son new hats, and mind benders, and kissed his bruises away with her eyes full. She knew that if she couldn't understand the boy, it would be difficult for him to make friends. Most people didn't even try to understand the unusual child, just shook their heads, and walked on. Naldo was simply an oddity, the neighborhood oddball, the one so weird, no one even wanted to pick on him. He was simply coldly ignored. Left utterly alone.

It got better when Naldo met Barry, and yet it didn't. Barry was also different, a weirdo, and outcast, but he also wasn't nearly the same as Naldo. In fact, Naldo soon realized, Barry was a genius. A legitimate genius. And his family either didn't notice, or didn't care. How they missed it, Naldo mused as Barry monologued about his latest experiment, Naldo had no idea . Not caring was even more unthinkable. Barry was a fifteen year-old boy, and yet he could probably teach any scientific course out there. His incredible knowledge and skill as a scientist were only matched by his lack of skills as dealing with others and normality.

Some days, that knowledge was all that kept Naldo working at the RV. Feeling like an idiot scientifically simply by sharing space with Barry took its toll sometimes. But Naldo knew they were good for each other. Naldo couldn't escape knowledge, living with Barry so much, and had learned more in their old RV than in any science class he'd ever taken. Naldo knew he was good for Barry too, forcing him to slow down a little, explain his ideas in simpler terms, easier for normal people to understand. They helped each other stay comfortable with who they were, no matter how different they were from other people, and even the other.

Barry and Naldo balanced each other out. Naldo's heart, and Barry's brain, Naldo's humor, and Barry's dryness, (and sometimes the other way around), Naldo's imagination, and Barry's reason, Naldo's oddness, and Barry's oddness, they complimented each other. That was why two such different people, near opposites, really, stayed friends, stayed so close to each other for so long.

Sometimes, Naldo wondered if he should try to make Barry's family understand just how brilliant Barry was. Really, Barry should have been at whatever the top scientific college was out there, not in an old RV. But Naldo always convinced himself that it would be better to wait, to keep helping Barry slow down the leaps of logic for other people to follow. Deep down, though, Naldo knew that maybe it was just that he was too scared to be alone again. Really alone, the way he was before meeting Barry. If Barry went off to a college, Naldo wouldn't be able to follow. And sure, he would still have Shelby and Cyd, but it wouldn't be the same.

Naldo wasn't by any means a scientific genius, but that didn't mean he was without a special talent of his own. Naldo had an odd sense of humor, and he knew it. He'd always had it. But something he also knew was that his humor could defuse tense, dangerous situations. That came in handy, being the best friend of a scientist who didn't seem to understand emotions, privacy, or the average person's aversion to complex science that made them feel like an idiot. Naldo's humor had defused nearly nuclear-level explosions from people Barry had ticked off, and people Barry was ticked off at. It worked in small situations, and in large ones, harmless, and dangerous.

It had worked when one of Barry's experiments had gone terribly, dreadfully wrong, nearly blowing up the whole neighborhood. Naldo's calm mask and ready quip had brought a white-faced Barry bout of his freezing panic, and back to the situation at hand, preventing disaster. It had been the first time, but by no means the last, that Naldo had helped Barry with an experiment gone wrong, halting it before it could become a catastrophe, by just being himself.

This time, was different. This time, they were in the clutches of a madwoman, who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. And it was being themselves that had gotten them into the situation to begin with.

Everything had gone extremely, horribly wrong. The girls had given up their powers to avert a crisis and, in-so-doing, had put Barry and myself in the crossfires. Janet was nothing if not efficient. Barry and I were subdued, the RV was stripped, and all of the "cargo" (i.e. us and the lab equipment) were stuffed into black vans within minutes.

We were led, under heavy guard, to her lab, where things were going very Not Good. I was scared senseless for myself and my best friend. Barry was a genius, alright, no question about it, but he'd been searching for a year for the solution to time travel. He hadn't found it in that time, so it was unlikely that he would suddenly pull it out of his hat. Partially because I'm the one who wears hats, and but mostly because he'd looked so long without finding anything. Even in my head, the joke fell short. We're in serious trouble this time, I realized.

Then Janet threatened me, and instead of being worried for myself, like a normal person, I was immediately worried about Barry. I knew he probably couldn't instantly solve time travel, and I knew he knew it too. Barry would blame himself if anyone was hurt because he couldn't find a solution quickly enough to satisfy the insane woman before us. So, yes, as I was manhandled into a glass box, it was my too pale friend I was afraid for, not me.

"Renaldo!" He called frantically, struggling to reach me.

"Barry!" I yelled back, pounding on the glass in front of me. It was not a plea for help, but for him not to be rash, not to let Janet use him, just because I was on the line.

I would've smiled, if I hadn't been so freaked out. Even then, we were balanced, each more worried for the other. And that thought gave me the power to stay calm (ish) as three huge mechanical spiders tried to decide which wanted to take a bite out of me first.

Barry tried to hold back, not let Janet see a weakness she could use against him. But eventually, he cracked. "Fine! I'll help you crack time travel! Just let him out of there, please!"

The spiders vanished, but I almost wished they would come back, if it would get the broken look out of my best friend's eyes.

As soon as we were face to face again, Barry pulled me into a tight hug. I returned it, worry and adrenaline prompting an equally tight hug from me. Barry had gotten me out of the box, but he had shut himself inside a far more dangerous one with his bargain.

But he didn't need to see the worry in my eyes. It wouldn't help anything. So, I did what I do best: defused the situation with the humor that had always served me so well. I wrapped my fears, my worries, everything negative, in humor.

"Barry! I was so worried about you!" Truer than he knew, actually, I realized, wryly.

Shock chased the brokenness out of his eyes. "What? Why?"

I shook my head solemnly. "You were trapped outside a box, while I got to hang out with cool robot spiders!"

Barry just stared at me a moment before shaking his head, minute smile on his face. He let out a deep breath he probably didn't even realize he was holding, and some of the tension leaked out of him. I'd proved I was okay, so he could relax, even if just a little. We could, and would, sort this out later, emotional baggage, guilt parties and all, after it was over. But in that moment, I would do everything in my power to help Barry, to support him, anything to make his part easier. Even if it meant burying my fear. Even if it meant smiling when I felt like screaming, joking when all I wanted to do was give up.

Even if it meant facing down venomous mechanical monsters, and pretending to enjoy my time with the "cool robot spiders".