June 1st year
A knock to his door causes Barry to stop from chopping the onion he is intending to add to the eggs for his omelette.
The clock in his living room shows that it is just shortly after noon and he knows that Mary wouldn't be around till later this afternoon. Len or the others are also unlikely as they usually just pay him a visit well after it has gotten dark and generally prefer to use Sam's help if the man can be bothered.
Not that he has seen much of them over the last month…
Barry frowns unhappily and pushes the thought away.
A turns his attention back to the door and a slight unease starts to settle over him. Another knock follows and he hesitates a moment longer before he puts the knife away and somewhat reluctantly makes his way over to the entrance of his flat.
It is early June and warm enough that he has the window over his kitchen sink open so that the sound of the streets below follow him through his apartment. This low cacophony of life outside his four walls has a very lulling quality but isn't able to do much for his nerves right now.
His stomach feels odd, as if something heavy was resting in it and weighing it down. It seems that he would have to safe his lunch for dinner.
The slight sense of foreboding grows worse as he leans down two look through his door spy to see who his unexpected visitor is. It is as if a bucket of ice water is emptied over his and for a second his legs seem to grow weak as he spots the person on the other side of the door.
It has been years since he has seen Jay the last time and, like with anybody else of his former life, he hasn't expected to do so anytime soon either.
Well, at least not, if the other man could help it.
What is he doing here?
Barry swallows nervously and he suddenly wonders whether anybody could have picked up on his connection to Len and the other Rogues.
Or former connection, he thinks bitterly, as it seems like this part of his life has resolved itself on its own again.
Still, he knows that there doesn't actually need to be a reason for him to get in trouble and the notion alone makes him feels sick.
He actually jumps when another knock sounds in front of him, a bit louder this time and he remembers that the other man is still waiting for him to answer the door.
Barry nervously gnaws his lower lip and isn't sure what to do. The notion to not open the door crosses his thoughts but he knows that this would most likely just lead to trouble should Jay find out that he has simply been ignoring him. He doesn't like it but the best thing is probably to just deal with whatever is going to happen. There aren't really that many options for him to choose from, anyway.
After taking a deep and slow calming breath, Barry reaches for the handle and opens the door.
Jay looks hardly any different than he has the last time he has seen him or back before everything happened. He probably doesn't even look that different from when Barry met him for the first time. Not bad for a man who was going towards the end of his eighties by now.
There is a moment of surprised silence and it becomes obvious that his guest hasn't expected to get any answer anymore. For a long moment, they both silently watch each other, unsure what to say.
"Hallo, Barry," Jay finally says and actually gives him a weak smile:" I hope I am not interrupting you with anything?"
Like usual under such situations, his voice has abandoned him once again, so that Barry just mutely shakes his head in negation. There are a lot of questions on his mind but right now his throat is closed up so tightly that just swallowing would be difficult.
Jay frowns slightly and Barry starts to fidget a bit nervously.
"Can I come in?"
The request doesn't come unexpected but Barry still isn't sure how to respond. He really doesn't think that this would be a good idea because why would Jay be here other than for some reason that would cause him just more problems in the end? He doesn't think that he would be able to deal with anything else.
He is so very tired of everything already, as it is.
There is a small part of him, though, which is excited to see the man in front of him again, which has been missing his former friend and colleague – all of them. Barry knows how stupid he is for it but he can't help it.
It has been and still is a horrible experience to be shunned by everybody, especially people like the Garricks, whom he considered family once. Not a single person of his past has come to him since his discharge and while he knows that he should most likely be grateful for it, it still hurts so badly at times.
Again, he answers wordlessly with a nod and steps aside to give the older man space to enter.
Jay gives him a slightly concerned look before he does so.
Barry closes the door behind him and watches how his guest briefly looks around in his small flat. It is then that it hits him how poor his current living conditions have to seem to him and an embarrassed and angry flush crosses his cheeks before he forces himself to avert his gaze from Jay and instead walk back over to his kitchenette to put the bowl with the whisked eggs and the cutting board with the onions into his fridge for later.
When he turns back to the Jay he finds him watching him and the discomfort and embarrassment hit him with full force once again. He tries to tell him to take a seat but his throat doesn't let a single word pass his lips, so that he quickly stops again. His flush deepens and gestures towards the kitchen table instead, his lips now firmly closed.
Jay doesn't move for a couple of seconds and Barry realizes with a sinking feeling that this is going to become a very awkward and humiliating experience for both of them if he shouldn't be able to get it together.
To his immense relief, Jay starts to move over to the offered seat just a moment later, though.
After showing him the box of coffee he has in his cupboard and Jay agreeing to it, he busies himself to prepare the beverage for the next couple of minutes during which neither of them speaks and an uncomfortably smothering silence starts to fill the room. He keeps his back to the other man for most of the time even though he can feel his gaze on himself. All of this is just so damn embarrassing and he hopes that he will be able to get some of his composure back to be able to at least get some words out.
Then again, maybe staying quiet is better than sounding like a complete fool.
"Thanks."
Jay accepts the cup of steaming coffee with a nod and an obviously concerned and grim expression that Barry isn't sure what to make of.
"Y-y-… y-you a-are w-w-welc-come," he forces out and hates how ridiculous he sounds even to himself.
His stomach feels queasy and it is most likely not a good idea for him to drink a cup as well but he takes one for himself nonetheless, just so that he has something in his hands.
Another uneasy silence follows and Barry keeps his eyes on the dark liquid in front of him while he listens to the sounds that reach him through the still opened window.
"Are you feeling alright?"
His grip around the cup tightens and his stomach makes an uncomfortable lurch.
"Y-yes."
Barry tries to ignore how feeble he sounds and keeps his gaze fixed on the cup of coffee.
Jay doesn't say anything else for another moment in which he can feel his scrutinizing eyes on him and he hates that he doesn't simply say why he is here.
"Barry," starts the older man again and something in his tone causes him to finally look up despite the reluctance he feels. Their eyes meet and Jay's frown deepens.
"You don't look like you are alright."
Somehow, these words are like a slap or maybe not the words themselves but the way they have been stated.
What the hell has he been expecting? Was he really surprised?
"I-I a-am f-f-… f-fine," he grits out and stubbornly returns Jay's gaze, even though it hurts to look at him.
"I think we both know that this is not true," returns the other man calmly but there is a slight tension to his expression that lets Barry know that he doesn't like the tone he is using on him. This makes him feel both, even angrier and like a petulant little boy. He turns back to the cup of coffee in front of him and stares at it quietly.
"I am not here to cause you any trouble," Jay goes on after he hasn't said anything for a couple of seconds:" I was just in the area and wanted to check on you."
Check on him. These words are extremely disconcerting. What is he thinking? That he is dragging little boys home after work in the deep of the night?
Barry lowers his head a bit and squeezes his eyes shut. He really regrets having him invited in, even though there hasn't been a real choice for him to begin with. Sending Jay away would have just made him look suspicious.
"You look exhausted," states his former friend in an oddly concerned voice that causes his chest to hurt so much:" Haven't you been getting enough sleep lately?"
"I-I a-am f-f-f-fine," he repeats tiredly and turns his head so that he faces the window behind which the sky is still of that nice bright early spring blue:" R-really."
Another silence follows and he hates how his eyes have started to itch again and how, all of a sudden, the exhaustion that keeps following him around these days is suddenly weighing him down like a ton of bricks.
"You have been doing really well so far."
Barry closes his eyes and resigns himself to the fact that he couldn't do anything but let the other man talk, no matter how much he wants him gone just now.
"I am glad," tells him Jay and his honesty hurts.
It is still so hard to stomach that he really believes him to be such a twisted kind of person, a damn child abuser and a murderer. Why couldn't he just leave him be, then? This is so painful.
"I have just come by to see how you are doing. Getting used to a normal life after prison can be hard, especially with all the changes."
For a second, Barry nearly hates him, for bringing this up, because he knows exactly what he is talking about. Not about his lost wife or Wally or everything else but the Speed Force. He grits his teeth and stays quiet.
"I know that you are angry," says Jay in a more quiet tone and the regret he feels as he speaks is palpable:" And while what you have done is inexcusable, I know that it was partly our fault as well. We should have noticed and helped before… before everything was able to escalate like that. What happened afterwards should also have been handled differently."
Something changes in the air between them and Barry, whose utter horror has slowly been replaced by a feeling of icy numbness, shivers slightly but doesn't return his gaze.
"It was careless to put you in a place like Iron Heights and not keeping an eye on how you were doing. I am truly sorry-"
Barry cuts him off mid-sentences because there is no way that he would be able to deal with where this is going. He can't think about it, he wouldn't, this is behind him!
"C-c-… c-coul-ld y-you p-p-p… p-pleas-se l-l-leav-ve?" he grits out while he stumbles up onto his feet. His eyes are still not looking at the other man and he doesn't think that he could bring him to do so anytime soon. He is so damn angry at him, for believing this, any of this horrible lies, but mostly of all, he is just ashamed of himself.
The sound of Jay getting up follows a moment later and a thick silence hangs between them for a long minute before the other man speaks again.
"Of course, I am sorry for passing by unannounced."
Barry doesn't replay, he knows that he wouldn't be able to hold it together any longer if he tried.
"Barry," starts Jay again quietly:" I know that all of this is hard on you and you probably think that you are alone after everything that has happened but if you need help you can call me, okay?"
The pressure behind his sternum is so strong that Barry fears it is going to cause his chest to crack open any moment now as he forces himself to nod wordlessly. Right now, he would have agreed to anything just to be left alone.
Jay keeps standing there for another moment, watching him, before he finally leaves.
It feels like he is moving through molasses as he goes to lock the door. His head hurts and he hardly picks up how his feet lead him to his bedroom where he buries himself under the thick cover and tries not to fall apart.
Barry doesn't leave the bed again this day.
"It is a really nice store," remarks Mary as she lets her gaze wander through Mrs Ming's shop once more. It is her first visit and Barry is really happy about the little surprise.
She has come back from a trip to Wisconsin sometime during last night but he hasn't had the opportunity to see her since then as he had to leave for work quite early again.
"Well," she goes on and winks at him:" Of course it is, seeing that you are working here."
He chuckles and returns her smile gladly. Over the last two weeks he has really missed her. It didn't really become apparent to him before but she has grown very much on him seeing that she is one of the few people he can actually talk to and confide in, especially now that the Rogues seem to have gotten enough of him.
"I h-have m-missed you," he tells her and feels himself blush slightly as soon as the words are out as he just now realize that she could understand it the wrong way.
Mary gives him a soft look and reaches for his hand that is resting on the counter. She squeezes it lightly and smiles warmly.
"I have missed you too, Barry," she assures him before she grins:" You and your dorkiness never fail to brighten up my day."
"D-dork-kiness?" he asks a bit affronted as he doesn't think of himself as particularly dorky.
His friend smile kindly and squeezes his hand once again before she lets go of it.
"You know how to speak three different elf languages," she points out and he feels how his face heats up to his ears.
"I d-don't, I- j-just c-can s-say a f-few phrases."
"Don't be embarrassed, it sounds amazing."
He ducks his head and mutters some feeble protest but can't help but feel secretly a little bit proud. In his youth he has been a gigantic JRR Tolkien's fan and re-read the Hobbit and the Lord of the Ring books enough times that the librarian left him the copies when the bookbinding was starting to fall apart.
"And you a big fan of Charlie Brown," she goes on and puts her index finger on her chin as she makes a thoughtful face:" You also like Dr Who and you can recite all the elements on the periodic table by their Latin name and groups and you know all kind of odd stuff about them like electrogravitiy."
"Electron-n-negativity," he corrects under his breath and smiles when Mary chuckles in response.
"Exactly."
Mrs Ming joins them a few minutes later and she takes an immediate liking to the young woman. She invites both of them to dinner that night and Marry is just all too happy to accept. This ends in a nice and entertaining evening for Barry as well as in left-overs the older lady wraps up for him.
July 1st year
It seems that finally the last remaining light bulb of the staircase between the first and third floor stopped working and Barry, who is wet to his skin from the surprised summer shower and tired enough to fall asleep on his feet, mutters to himself that nothing of this place is worth the 550 dollar rent as he starts to climb the stairs in darkness.
The building is surprisingly quiet tonight for which he is glad to no end. Right now he just wants to get out of his drenched clothes and into his bed. It has been a long day.
Barry doesn't bother with turning on the light of his floor and just slowly makes his way over to his door. His hips have been hurting like hell the whole day already and he hopes that a long hot shower would help with the pain at least enough that it would not make it difficult for him to fall asleep.
The stripe of light that falls through the gap under his door catches his attention just as he has unlocked it. He freezes immediately.
There is the sound of footsteps and his heart nearly jumps up his throat as he realizes that whoever is in there is making their way towards the door and thus him. The notion to turn around a bold crosses his mind just as he feels the handle under hand turn.
Bright light blinds him for a second and a small distressed whimper passes his lips as he stumbles back a step.
"It's just me," tells him a low and familiar voice and the fear leaves him just as quickly as it has taken hold of him.
"Would you move it already," grunts Len when he has just been staring at him for a long minute.
"Wh-what are y-you d-doing h-here?"
"Waiting for you to finally enter you damn flat."
Annoyed, he frowns but follows along as it really would do no good if any of his neighbours picked up on his late night visitor.
"Wh-what are y-you d-doing h-here, L-Len?" he repeats his question after the other man shut the door behind him. He hasn't seen him for nearly two months by now, not a single peep, nothing, from neither of them, and he has been rather certain that this has been it for their… whatever there has been between them.
The other man shrugs and walks back over to the couch.
"I haven't been around in a while and I needed someplace quiet."
There are blueprints covering the small table in front of his couch, along with three empty beer bottles and a white take out box and Barry wonders with growing disbelief how long he has made himself at home in his flat already without even bothering to ask at first.
"S-so y-you th-thought y-you c-c-could j-just p-pass b-by?"
Len, who is standing next to the couch by now, picks up his beer and takes a pull before he turns back to him with a grim look.
"Why not? It never bothered you so far."
Barry isn't blind, he is certain that Len is just playing dumb and knows exactly why he is so angered by this.
"Y-you j-just v-vanished f-from o-one d-day t-to th-the n-next!"
"I have been busy."
Again this damn shrug, as if this hasn't meant anything.
"Wh-why d-did y-you s-suddenl-ly d-decide t-to s-s-scram?" asks Barry and angrily walks over to the couch as well:" D-did I-I s-scare y-you off s-s-someh-how?"
The other man barks a laugh before he gives him a rather nasty smirk.
"You couldn't scare off a fucking fly, Allen, don't make yourself sound stupid."
"Y-you w-would kn-know a-all a-ab-b-bout th-that, w-wouldn't y-you?"
"That from the guy who isn't able to get a single word out straight," scoffs Len and Barry decides here and now that he wouldn't deal with this tonight. He is cold and tired and he really doesn't have the patience for any of this.
Without another word, he passes his unwanted visitor and walks into his bedroom to grab some dry clothes before he vanishes into his small bathroom.
About fifteen minutes later, once again dry and warm, he re-enters the living room. Len is still sitting on the couch, seemingly working on some ideas to upgrade his gun, but he doesn't look over to make sure. Instead, he grabs himself a glass from his cupboard and watches it as it fills with water.
He more feels than hears the other man come up behind him and tenses up involuntarily. It is so annoying how quiet Len can be if he puts his mind to it.
"You're up for a game of poker?"
There is an unusual uncertain quality to his question and Barry grits his teeth as a surge of frustration flashes through him, before it is replaced once more by a bone-deep tiredness.
"Y-you've inv-vited m-me o-over t-to a-anoth-ther p-poker n-night," he reminds him quietly and immediately feels stupid for bringing this up. Over the last two months he has told himself more than once that it has been foolish of him to expect anything from those people, and that it is even more ridiculous to feel hurt by their sudden disappearance.
Len doesn't answer and Barry quietly makes his way back to his bedroom.
He closes the door firmly behind himself.
It hurts so much, every thrust feels like it is going to split him in half and he can do nothing, not even scream as his face is pressed down into his pillow. The hand in his hairs tighten and he isn't sure whether he should fight against it and try to move his head so that he could finally get some air down his lungs again or simply let it go and pass out. Maybe this time would be the last one, then.
The thrusts becomes quicker, shorter and harder and he cries into his pillow as the pain shoots up his spine and nearly causes him to throw up.
Then, he hears him grunt and hiss and there is another awful thrust into him and he knows that it is over for tonight. The hand holds him down for another long moment and he feels lightheaded enough that he hardly notices how the man pulls out of him.
"Good boy," he says, the mid-forty electrician named David who is his the latest foster father he is stuck with for now. He misses the Perkins, they may have been violent and awful people but neither of them ever sexually abused any of their foster kids.
"Good boy," repeats David and pats his head as if he was some kind of dog:" You did really great, Barry."
His hand moves down his naked back and he caresses him in this twisted tender way that causes Barry nearly to lose it.
"I am really proud of you, you are such a good little boy."
Tears are running down his cheeks and wet the pillow below him and he wishes the man would finally leave and he would be able to get Mister Bunny from his hiding place. He just wants to be left alone.
"Such a good little boy."
Warm lips touch his shaking right shoulder and he sobs quietly. The hand on his hip gives him a small squeeze and he tries to remember one of the Limericks they have been reading in school the other day.
There was an old man on a boat,
Who said "I am afloat, I am afloat!"
When they said "No you ain't!"
He was ready to faint,
That unhappy old man on a boat.
It helps a bit, reciting them silently to themselves while the man keeps patting him in this horribly affectionate way.
"Such a good little boy," he repeats and his breath is hot against his ear.
Barry wakes up with a start. His heart is razing and he feels so sick for a second that he is certain he would have to change his bedding before he could try to catch anymore sleep tonight. Thankfully, it just takes his stomach a few seconds to settle down again, though.
Keeping laying there in the darkness isn't an option, he can feel that bastard's hands still on him, as well as the phantom pain in his lower body. With a small groan, he rolls onto his side and gets up. His knee buckle but he is able to get his footing and slowly make his way over to the door.
The small floor and his living area are dark and he clumsily searches for the lightening switch on the wall next to him. A moment later everything is flooded by brightness and he squints his eyes as a sharp pain shoots through his head in return.
A cup of warm tea would be exactly the right thing to settle his nerves a bit.
Barry has hardly entered his living room when someone makes a protesting noise from his couch and sits up with a low swear. It startles him so badly that he actually screams and stumble back a couple of steps.
Len is on his feet in an impressive display of speed. His face displays both, anger and confusion, as he searches for any potential danger. As soon as his eyes land on him, though, he relaxes somewhat again.
"What the hell?" he asks in obvious annoyance with a voice that is still harsh from sleep:" Are you fucking nuts? I could have shot you, you damn idiot!"
It is then, that Barry notices the familiar gun in the other man's right hand and he realizes that he really has been lucky to not end up at least partly frozen.
"Wh-what a-are y-you s-still d-d-doing here?"
His voice sounds shaky and feeble but he doesn't really care. He feels a strange numbness overcome his mind and he can't bring himself to be angry to find the other man still around, he is mostly just curious. From experience, he knows that his couch is an awful substitute for a bed.
"What the fuck does it look like?" grunts Len and puts the gun down on the table:" Getting some rest, or at least, I have been trying to."
Barry just looks at him for a couple of seconds but can't bring himself to point out that he really had no right to be so damn pissed off by his sudden appearance as he hasn't been invited to stay over in the first place. Instead of replaying something, he nods quietly and continues his way to the kitchen.
His head is still hurting and he still feels so disgustingly dirty.
"Are you alright?"
When he throws a brief glance over his shoulder, he sees that Len still hasn't moved from his spot at the couch and that he is watching him intently now.
It is then that Barry picks up that his own hands are actually shaking.
"Y-yeah."
Memories couldn't hurt him, he is alright.
Len stays quiet after that and Barry goes on preparing the tea. He ends up filling two cups and while he knows that the other man would most likely not want it, the notion of sharing it with somehow is nice and calming. To his surprise, it is accepted.
"Thanks," Len watches Barry expectedly when he keeps standing next to him and doesn't move to take a seat on the couch.
"C-could w-we s-sit on th-the k-k-… k-kitchen t-table?"
He sounds still so damn shaken and averts his eyes in embarrassment.
"Sure," agrees Len and gives him an odd look but doesn't comment otherwise on his request.
Barry doesn't feel like talking, so that they end up in silence once again but it doesn't bother him, seeing that the other man's presence alone is soothing to him. Len seems to understand and doesn't try to start a conversation, not that he has ever been that big at that.
"Wh-why…"
Again, Barry just realizes that he is talking as the word has already passed his lips. He stops himself and lowers his head a bit while keeping his eyes on the amber liquid in the cup in front of him. Len is watching him intently again, his gaze is nearly as palpable as an actual touch. Barry shivers slightly.
"Wh-why d-did y-you… v-vanish?" he asks in a small voice and hates himself for the need to do so. It is obvious why the other man has stayed away, he had enough of him and his oddities and probably realizes that there is something severely wrong with him, like everybody else does at one point or another.
"W-was i-it b-bec-cause o-of s-s-someth-thing I-I d-did?"
Slowly, he looks up to meet the other man's eyes with an uncertain expression.
"D-did I-I d-do o-or s-s-say s-s-someth-thing wh-while I-I w-was d-drunk?"
Len frowns and there is a grimness to the way he studies him now that causes Barry's stomach to sink.
"No, you didn't and it wasn't because of you."
This answer is a bit of a surprise, mostly because he has expected him to simply tell him off. Still, he knows that the other man isn't telling the truth, at least not completely.
"I-I c-can b-be… o-odd at t-times," Barry states quietly:" I-I kn-know th-that... I-I a-am…"
He chews on his bottom lip for a moment as he glances down to his tea cup before he looks up again.
"I-I c-can't h-help i-it."
Len returns his gaze and he seems not sure what to make of what he has just said.
"You are no odder than most people I know," he finally says before he huffs slightly and rubs his temple.
"Look, I have been busy, the last few weeks have been crazy and I just hadn't the time to pass by. It wasn't anything personal."
Barry watches him for a long moment before he slowly nods.
"Ok-kay, g-good."
It is a lie, at least partly but Barry doesn't want to touch upon it, not now. Being not alone after one of these damn nightmares is soothing and reassuring and he doesn't want to chase Len away again.
"I-I a-am g-glad th-that y-you h-have c-come ov-ver," he tells him honestly:" D-despite m-my r-reac-ction f-from b-before."
Like usual, Len doesn't seem particularly fond of this kind of talk and he looks rather ill at ease as he replays with short nod of his own. Barry takes pity on him and decides to take a shower. The feeling of hands on his skin hasn't left yet and he just wants to get rid of it already.
"Thank you, my dear boy," Mrs Ming gives him a faint smile after Barry brought her some freshly made chicken soup.
The old woman has caught the flue and thus is currently bedridden. Barry, who has ignored her attempts to assure him that she is fine on her own, has been checking up on her once an hour during work to see whether she was doing alright and whether she needed something.
"Jamie will be here in an hour, then you don't have to worry about me anymore," she tells him with an apologetic smile after he has refilled her cup with fresh tea.
"It is r-really n-no t-trouble," he assures her again with a smile:" Y-you c-can't h-help it and you are o-one of th-the n-nicest p-patients anyb-body c-could w-wish f-f-for, s-so d-don't w-worry."
The day is a rather slow one, anyway. There is a storm raging and most people seem to avoid going outside too much. This is quite alright with Barry, seeing that he doesn't have to worry about locking potential customers out every time he briefly closes the entrance to look after Mrs Ming. It also gives him the opportunity to take stock of things and write down what he has to re-order.
The radio is static again as he re-enters the store a few minutes later but he decides to leave it running on low as it gives him at least some kind of background noise while he works.
It is close to six pm when an Asian man in his mid to late thirties enters and Barry is immediately sure that he is the grandson of his employer she always talks of so fondly.
He is about Barry's height but in a much better physical state and very smartly dressed. Mrs Ming told him that he is working for a big Company as a financial consultant and thus has to travel a lot. For the last ten month he has been in China but returned today from his stay there, which is quite a lucky coincident, seeing that it would certainly help Mrs Ming to have her grandson around right now.
Barry wonders whether the man has come directly from the airport or not but seeing that he doesn't have any luggage with him, it is more likely that he made a quick trip to his apartment at first before coming here.
The man looks rather tired, though, as he glances swiftly around the store before his eyes land on him. He frowns slightly before he starts to walk over to him.
"Hallo, I am James Lai," he introduces himself and offers Barry his hand with a small smile:" I am the grandson of Bo Ming, the owner of this store. I take it that you have to be Barry?"
Surprised, he nods and stammers an affirmative. This causes the other man to chuckle.
"She really likes you," he explains with a kinder smile:" She has told me quite a lot about you during our calls."
The warmth in his eyes lessens again and he studies him quietly for a moment. Barry is pretty sure that he is going to tell him that he would be watching him and that he should think twice before trying something stupid just because he is working for an older woman or something along these lines. He doesn't doubt that the man knows that he is an ex-convict, Mrs Ming never mentions it towards Barry but she and her grandson seem to have a very close relationship and it is unlikely that she would have left this piece of information out.
James doesn't say anything of this kind to him, though. The slight frown vanishes again and instead turns to the door that leads to the stairs.
"I will go and take a look at her. She is upstairs, isn't she?"
"Y-y-yes," nods Barry and, with that, James is gone again.
Closing is quite a short matter today as he had enough time to clean everything over the last hour with no people passing by as the rain has still been getting steadily stronger. He doesn't complain, the humid weather causes his joints to act up and he is glad that he can takes his time with everything.
Barry is just counting the money of today's receipts when James joins him in the small backroom where the little vault for their daily receipts is placed.
It is ridiculous but Barry can't help but feel uncomfortable and a bit worried by the other man seeing him with the cash. Nervously, he puts the money down and turns to him.
"Hey," greets James and Barry picks up that his voice sound not as reserved as before but quite a bit warmer:" I just wanted to see whether I could lend you a hand with the closing but it seems that you are nearly finished already."
"Y-yes i-it w-was a-a s-slow a-aftern-noon, I c-could d-do m-most o-of th-the c-cleaning b-bef-forehand," he explains and smiles uncertainly:" B-but th-thank y-you anyw-way."
"No problem, I think lending you a hand is the least I can do after you have taken such great care of my grandmother today."
"Th-that is n-not n-neces-sary, r-really. I-I aam g-glad I-I c-could h-help a b-bit."
James watches him again quietly for a moment. It causes Barry to grow nervous and he fidgets a bit before he turns back to the cash.
"I-I w-will b-be f-finished i-in j-just a-a c-couple o-of m-minutes," he explains to fill the silence between them and offers a bit more hesitant:" Y-you c-can r-rec-count i-it."
The other man frowns at that.
"I am sorry if I came over somewhat hostile before, I had a long day and I was worried about lao lao, I didn't mean to insinuate anything."
James smiles a bit sheepish at that and asks him if he would like to join him upstairs in the kitchen for some hot chocolate. Barry hesitates as he doesn't really like the idea of being alone with another man he knows next to nothing of.
Then again, this is Mrs Ming's grandson and he immediately feel a bit ashamed for assuming the worst of this seemingly nice guy just because he is so damn screwed up.
"S-sure," he agrees with a rather forced smile and is a bit surprised about how pleased the other man actually seems about it.
"Great, you go on and finish with the money and I will get upstairs and prepare the drinks, alright?"
"Ok-kay."
James grins at that and Barry is left alone once again.
Confused, he watches the spot where the other man has stood just a moment before and while the notion of spending some time with him makes him nervous, it is also nice to think that he has been invited in the first place.
He turns back to his work feeling more relaxed than he has been before.
