[The thing is, Barry, while running around would have been enough, the added explanation, the restatement of things in a way that's just screaming family at Bart is- well. It's more than he'd been expecting, and that's a good thing.
See, for Bart as he is - body shrunk and his mind sent back to the way it was when he was ten years old - it's been five long, lonely years. It's been five years of working every day until his arms ached and his legs felt like jelly. Five years of metal strung around his neck, locking his powers away. Five years of shutting the door on his patchwork room and curling up on the floor, alone, to close his eyes and brace himself for another day of work. Of terror. And of hopelessness.
It's been five years since he'd had any bit of family, and the fact that this is, apparently, Barry Allen.... the Flash, the hero, someone he'd always wanted to meet, someone he'd heard stories of, his hero, if he was allowed to think like that --
What Barry will find himself faced with now is Bart barreling into him, meaning to just take a few slow steps forward but inevitably slipping into superspeed. He hits him probably hard enough to cause them both to stumble but Bart doesn't really care about that. All he cares about is wrapping his arms around his grandfather and clinging desperately, like if he doesn't Barry might slip away, he might vanish and that'd be it. That'd be all Bart would ever see of the grandfather he's always dreamed of meeting.]
No. [Comes that belated, muffled response. Muffled since, y'know, he basically has his face smushed up in Barry's shirt.] No, s'fine. That was fine.
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See, for Bart as he is - body shrunk and his mind sent back to the way it was when he was ten years old - it's been five long, lonely years. It's been five years of working every day until his arms ached and his legs felt like jelly. Five years of metal strung around his neck, locking his powers away. Five years of shutting the door on his patchwork room and curling up on the floor, alone, to close his eyes and brace himself for another day of work. Of terror. And of hopelessness.
It's been five years since he'd had any bit of family, and the fact that this is, apparently, Barry Allen.... the Flash, the hero, someone he'd always wanted to meet, someone he'd heard stories of, his hero, if he was allowed to think like that --
What Barry will find himself faced with now is Bart barreling into him, meaning to just take a few slow steps forward but inevitably slipping into superspeed. He hits him probably hard enough to cause them both to stumble but Bart doesn't really care about that. All he cares about is wrapping his arms around his grandfather and clinging desperately, like if he doesn't Barry might slip away, he might vanish and that'd be it. That'd be all Bart would ever see of the grandfather he's always dreamed of meeting.]
No. [Comes that belated, muffled response. Muffled since, y'know, he basically has his face smushed up in Barry's shirt.] No, s'fine. That was fine.