[ Bruce doesn't do a lot of explaining in general, let's be real. At least when it comes to his personal life, thoughts, feelings, etc. Things they need to know for a "mission" or whatever? Sure. But, even then, he keeps a few things to himself like always. But Barry here? For the most part? Just goes with it with, so. Lucky Bruce.

Another sip of that milkshake, Barry looks to Bruce out of the corner of his eye and secretly smiles to himself. He can't help but wonder if the man knows how much of a masterpiece he is despite his being ripped at all his edges. Thoughts that come to him so sweetly over strawberry and vanilla milkshakes in the dark of the night down the road. ]

I mean... yeah? [ The smile he tosses Bruce is still soft and warm and he huffs a bit of a laugh as he looks away then, licking over his lips. ] You know, I didn't really know what I was getting into when I said yes. [ Parademons??? ] I mean... yeah, sure, I've dealt with some bad guys before but... in my own... very non-confrontational way.

[ In other words: he knows he doesn't match up to the likes of Bruce, Clark, Diana, Arthur... even Victor when it comes to being a fighter. Push, run, evade? That's his thing. Mind you, he's gotten better with feeling he's just as vital to the team, that these people similar to him accept and need him just as much as he accepts and needs them. Maybe without a little more hesitation than... certain people... might have had with him, but. Here they are.

Stabbing his straw through the cup, he finishes the vanilla off and shoves it in the other cup holder there, hands balling up into fists that he rubs over his legs as he sits there. ]

I don't know. You're... you, so... it's nice to feel like The Batman needs me. [ A beat, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, an uncertain squint of his eyes. ] That... Bruce Wayne maybe needs me.