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There had been TERROR filling his mind and among the foreign pain and rage, he couldn’t tell anymore who it belonged to. It was a strange sensation that had taken him by surprise, had made him snap at Stein and spit words so hateful into the other man’s face that shame still coloured his own cheeks. But once he could think again, WORRY rose inside his chest, a deep concern for the poor soul who seemed so broken that it bleed through to him.

Nails clawed at his arms, scratched away something that wasn’t there and it took him a mere heartbeat to figure out he needed them safe, needed to HELP. CAGED within the unforgiving walls of the Waverider he wandered around, aimless at first before his steps took a direction. Like a puppet he followed his feet, let invisible strings guide him until he stood in front of the kitchen. The metal door was still firmly shut, he wasn’t close enough yet but it was then that he realised he hadn’t been as blind when walking as he had thought. His throat was dry, the thirst he had ignored for a while only then fully came into the light and with yet another short pause - was he afraid of an empty room? - he walked through the door.

Of course, the room wasn’t vacant. The fear - or maybe it was a hollow hope - quickly vanished once he spotted Sara. Again, worry crept back into his mind, he wasn’t even sure why but he knew THIS TIME IT WAS ALL HIM. Something seemed to hold her down, to make her miserable and he couldn't bear seeing her like that.

“ Hey, are you okay? ” His voice was so faint he, so weak he wasn’t even sure she had heard him. Instead, he cleared his throat and let the worlds fall free - louder this time but his tone was still so soft. “ You kinda look like the plan didn’t work out. Did something happen? ”

#nximpulsecxntrxl #bethewhitecanary #bethewhitecanary01 #[ & ray ]#storytelling & [ IC ]#(this kinda got longer than expected sorry)

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The noise still echoed in his ears, so simple, so loud and yet almost drowned out by his own thundering heart as trembling fingers laced themselves around the heavy metal in his hand a gun. His suit hadn’t been functional, his friends in danger and it happened so fast; the moment he had decided to pick the firearm up, something inside of him had snapped. He blinked his eyes shut and when brown orbs were once more graced with the dim lights the warehouse held it felt like a different man stood there. Not in front of him, but in the very spot - the very body - Ray had been supposed to occupy. Seemingly without any effort, the stranger had stepped into his skin and an eerie sense of calm had guided his movements. Vividly he still remembered how he had almost blindly taken out henchman after henchman. One shot, he then had promised himself before another one rung in his ears and then a third and a fourth had followed. Some unfamiliar part of his mind provided him with the knowledge that he would soon run out of bullets, while another part much quieter and even more lethal, told him it wouldn't matter anymore.

All of that seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. Yet, he still stood with the gun in hand among corpses the fact that something like satisfaction tugged at the corners of his lips should’ve terrified him, instead, the stranger within his own flesh had begun to bleed into Ray. Shaw. This new person crashed through his mind with a flood of pictures and data but no memories. There was still so much missing, so many terrifying details he needed to discover but for the first time in so long he felt whole. One last bullet found its way through the thick skull of the last living gangster before the gun finally FINALLY! was lowered. Ray wheezed out a breath, spun around to Sara with terror written across his slack features before he threw the weapon to the floor and Shaw took a step forward. Slowly at first unsure of the new situation before he calmly bent down to untie her.