Eating seemed like more of a task than it ought to be and a luxury. He didn't feel like indulging. He didn't deserve to. He couldn't even save Iris from that godforsaken place.
Barry had his eyes on the town as they walked distractedly. "Some guy from the Mayor's office said the ones responsible were going on trial. Shouldn't I care about that?" He was supposed to care, he was a part of the system as a cop. It was technically a part of his job to care, but Barry didn't really care about his current job either. Protect and serve, yeah right. "Said we should testify, I'm not going." There was zero possibilities in that happening. Faith, hope, those were two things Barry was supposed to have abundance of but right then it was like he was just tapped out. He'd used it up trying to make sure the other prisoners in that awful place had someone to talk to if they needed it-but now he was just worn out. He wasn't even angry, he was just kind of empty.
He'd met a few people in there, but he wasn't sure if they'd want anything to do with him now. Honestly he wasn't sure he wanted any reminders of them either. He'd checked on a couple, but then basically left them alone otherwise.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not seeming to realize Cisco was talking. Barry recognized one of the faces that'd confronted him in the first place and he stopped walking, staring the larger man down for a moment. He'd just started to accept this town was his, things were basically good in Salem for him. Better than home, and now this? And now these people could just go about their business as though nothing had happened?
A hint of gold touched his otherwise dark eyes as he watched. The man dropped a crate on the ground that he'd grabbed off a truck he was unloading that caused Barry to snap out of his daze. Fruit rolled out onto the ground around the heavy set man. "What?" He glanced over at his friend as he tried to pick up on the words being spoken a minute or so after they'd been said but all he got was something about a warehouse.