[it kind of throws him for a moment to be asked why. he doesn't have some deep, self-reflective answer ready even if he is vaguely aware of why he does it. there is a huge collision of multiple concepts in his brain right now; barry being his friend (big one, underlined, lots of question marks around it), barry giving a shit about him, everything he's dealing with on waking up (imagine sparkly poop emoji stickers around that one) and the fact his usual bullshit isn't working. the fact he doesn't actually really want his usual bullshit to work.
realising that last one is... sobering. he doesn't want to fuck this mission up not because he cares about it but because he doesn't want to upset barry.
that in itself is pretty hard to reconcile. he never even really felt like that when he was on missions with lana.]
I'm already drunk, [he mutters a little lamely, clearly uncomfortable, clamming up now it's all going beyond surface level. archer runs a hand through his hair, suddenly very interested in not looking at barry at all.] It's not because of you, or anything. I mean, shit, Barry, not everything is about you.
[the insult falls extremely flat, and archer is all too aware of the fact he doesn't actually have an answer to the question. he taps his hand on his knee a little awkwardly, cogs in his brain almost audiably grinding away to try and find something to fill the silence with.]
no subject
realising that last one is... sobering. he doesn't want to fuck this mission up not because he cares about it but because he doesn't want to upset barry.
that in itself is pretty hard to reconcile. he never even really felt like that when he was on missions with lana.]
I'm already drunk, [he mutters a little lamely, clearly uncomfortable, clamming up now it's all going beyond surface level. archer runs a hand through his hair, suddenly very interested in not looking at barry at all.] It's not because of you, or anything. I mean, shit, Barry, not everything is about you.
[the insult falls extremely flat, and archer is all too aware of the fact he doesn't actually have an answer to the question. he taps his hand on his knee a little awkwardly, cogs in his brain almost audiably grinding away to try and find something to fill the silence with.]