"Yeah well, different worlds, right?" His smile is bitter as he salutes his double with his beer. "Your world your old man didn't do it, you got to become a CSI and a Speedster. Me? I got bounced around some crap homes and wound up on the streets. Lucky me."

He rakes long fingers through his hair.

"Different worlds I guess."

Barry's gaze flicks to the quieter version in the kitchen. "Lemme guess. You're the lucky one." His voice isn't bitter, it's simply resigned.