It's not the first time the detention center has erupted in noise. Over the days he's been held here, there have been many fights, planned or spontaneous in the hallways, shouts and screams from other prisoners, Barry's own voice among them when he spots one of the little ones dragged by, but it's nothing like this.

The silence that follows is almost as deafening, and Barry turns his body towards the door of his cell. One way or another, this feels like an end, and it's not until he sees Derek's anxious face through the bars that Barry lets himself believe it will be a good one.

"Hey," he tries to say, but his voice seems to have abandoned him with the last of his strength, and Barry only manages a wobbling smile. The bars to his cell give with a thunderous noise, and then Derek is there, not a dream or a hallucination but flesh and blood. Barry's cheek aches beneath Derek's hand, fractured in one of the fights so numerous that Barry's lost count, along with half his ribs and maybe his arm, but his smile holds. "Nice...to see you."