Chapter Text
Pan’s Garden isn’t really the sort of place that Barry ever imagined he’d spend most of his free time—the odd, out-of-the-way little place was half florist and half head shop.
Merle is behind the counter when Barry gets there. Which should be surprising—he owns the place, after all—but Barry was sure Lup was supposed to be working today. Barry had been using the greenhouse behind Merle’s shop as a makeshift lab for nearly two years now, it was inevitable that he’d eventually memorize his friend’s work schedule.
“Where’s Lup? Did she get sick or something?” he asks, now worried, “Doesn’t she close on Wednesdays?”
“Yeah, but she’s not sick or nothing,” Merle sniffs, flicking absent-mindedly at the Willy Nelson bobblehead beside the register, “Sent her home early. Visit with my kids fell through and I needed the distraction.”
“…Oh. Shit. I really wanted to talk to her.” Worry fades to disappointment. It must show clearly on his face, because Merle seems to take immediate offence.
“Well, sorry my presence is such an inconvenience to you,” Merle says, now picking at a fraying seam on his gaudy Hawaiian shirt, “You know, I’m doing you a favor by letting you use my greenhouse for your weird science shit. Wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer.” He looks hurt, honestly hurt.
Barry sighs, steps forward and places his hand oh Merle’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, Merle. I didn’t mean to—”
“—No, no! Go on, do whatever it is you do out there. Weirdo black magic shit, I swear.”
Barry lets his hand fall away slowly as he heads outside, “Listen, I’ll be outside, if you want to hang out?”
The area behind Pan’s Garden hadn’t been properly maintained in months—an overgrown mess of tall grass, wildflowers, and weeds. Barry takes a seat at the picnic table where he and Lup usually spent her lunch break, and thinks hard about what he intends to do next. Usually, he’d head over to the greenhouse to check up on things but, if he’s being honest with himself, there’s really nothing that needs checking on. He’d just stopped by to see Lup.
In a roundabout way, he could blame this whole thing on Taako.
‘Just go for it! Ask her to dinner or some shit.’ Taako had told him, the last time Barry managed to speak to him alone. (He and Taako had a more group-setting sort of friendship.)
That… hadn’t been the expected response.
He’d gone to Taako for a dose of reality. He’d expected Taako to sit him down and tell him that his crush on Lup was a lost cause, never gonna happen, get over yourself Barold, she wouldn’t be caught dead. Taako wasn’t exactly known for sparing feelings, he had none of Magnus’ unshakable optimism or Merle’s blind-spot for romantic attraction, and he knew Lup better than anyone. But that’s not what happened. Taako had encouraged him.
If he said Barry had a shot, it must be true. Right?
Barry realizes, faintly, that if he waits much longer he’ll lose his nerve.
So he takes out his phone and types a message out, deletes it, rinses-and-repeats for what feels like the better part of twenty minutes.
He closes his eyes and hold his breath for the moment that he finally hits ‘send’, but he’s done it. He asked Lup out to dinner.
Then, he starts to over-think it. We go to dinner all the time. What if she’s never thought about me like that? Why would she assume I meant a date? So he sends another text, just to clarify. (And then another, to be completely sure.)
He’s a bit surprised when he gets no immediate response, Lup usually held onto her phone like a lifeline—a side effect of often being called into sort out the aftermath of her brother’s antics—and typed faster than anyone else he knew.
He stares at the messages he’s already. Barry had an ex who told him that double-texting was annoying. She told him this a lot, especially when he started getting panicky and irrational. Barry lies his head down against the table, picking anxiously at the peeling paint as he wonders if maybe that’s why Lup isn’t answering. He was being annoying. (The obvious reasons come to mind too: Maybe she just hasn’t seen the messages yet or maybe that she just needs time to think about it, but Barry’s brain has to play through every terrible possibility before he can settle on the rational ones.)
Barry hears the back door to the shop open and shut, but he doesn’t look up. Merle clears his throat and he grumbles back at him in acknowledgement.
“You, uh, you alright, kid?” Merle asks, taking up the seat across from him.
“I’m fine,” Barry lies, now raising up just enough to look at him.
“Oh-kay…” Merle doesn’t believe him for a second, he can tell, “Seriously, what’s going on with you?” he asks, just shy of disinterested.
Barry rubs at his temples in an attempt to stave off his growing stress-headache, “I took some advice from Taako,” he tells him, not really prepared to share the full situation the way Merle clearly expects him too.
Merle laughs, straight-up slaps his knee like that’s the best thing he’s heard all day, “Why the hell would you do something like that? You know he was probably fucking with you, right?”
“I- …Because I’m an idiot.” Barry plays through his last conversation with Taako in his head, wondering if his encouragement may have been part of an elaborate joke, maybe sarcasm that’d gone right over Barry’s head.
“Aw, no,” Merle leans in to pat Barry on the shoulder. He’s not sure if it’s meant to be condescending, “You’re not a idiot. Gullible as shit, sure, but not an idiot.”
Barry feels his throat tighten up with worry, and he wonders how he could have ever thought this was a good idea. How could he be so stupid?
For a few long moments, Barry is silent. He glances over at the greenhouse and thinks about all the weird little projects and probably pointless research that he and Lup had started there out of the simple drive to know more, all the things he couldn’t—and wouldn’t—finish without her. He thinks about Lup’s gentle teasing, and he thinks about never hearing it again. Thoughts rush in and out of his head too quickly to process properly. He is, he realizes, panicking a little.
He grabs for his phone and types another message, this time begging Lup to just forget the whole thing. Then another. Then, he hears Merle grumble something under his breathe about being ignored and stomp back into the store. Lup had become a constant in his life, one of the very few good ones, and now he faces the possibility that he may have damaged it beyond repair. Unrequited feelings he could handle, Lup’s friendship was more than enough, but couldn’t handle the idea that he’d made it weird.
Then, he finally gets his response.
Lup: Hey! Sorry! I got distracted and forgot to text you back.
Lup: Lmao dinner sounds great. Name a time and place. :’)