Ready To Run (FLASH/ARROW/GLEE)

Clearing The Air

Oliver slowly pushed open the door to Barry's room in the West Residence. The room appeared to be empty at first glance. But when he catalogued the room in a few seconds, he realised that Barry was standing by the window.

The lights were switched off, and the visibility was only due to the moonlight shining through the window. The pale light cast Barry's cheekbones into sharp relief and surrounded him with an air of mystery and melancholy.

This wasn't right.

Barry was supposed to be as bright as the sun, always. Seeing him like that made Oliver want to curse and rage at the universe, for throwing everything it can at Barry, trying to extinguish his light.

Softly, Oliver closed and locked the door behind him. It was obvious in the way Barry tensed that he was aware that he wasn't alone anymore.

"Barry," soft as a whisper, Oliver spoke.

"I suppose it's too much to hope that you'll just forget about that episode?" Barry stated more than asked, his voice reflecting his weariness. He had his fists clenched at his sides.

"Not if it's something about you," stated Oliver, quietly but firmly. "Definitely not if it concerns your well-being."

Oliver itched with the need to go over to his partner and put his arms around him, to hold him tightly and preferably, never let go. But he couldn't. Not when Barry was holding himself so defensively.

The knowledge that he was defensive, as though trying to protect himself, against Oliver was enough to make him stop in his tracks. Without conscious thought, he started rubbing his thumb and two fingers together, trying to control the wave of helplessness that was threatening to drown him.

Barry gave a broken chuckle, it's sound resembling shards of glass scraping through his throat and grating on Oliver's ears, making him cringe.

"Tell me, Barry, please," Oliver implored. It physically pained him to see Barry hurting. His entire being was chanting and screaming at him to do whatever it takes to make Barry smile again (and to burn, destroy, wipe from existence, whatever was the reason behind his suffering)

Never in a million years did he expect Oliver himself to be the reason. 

***

Barry did not want to face his partner, didn't want to see the helpless look on his face. When spending the day with Iris and then Jeff, Barry had noticed how Oliver glanced at him in concern as frequently as he could, without making it seem obvious. Barry tried to avoid his gaze. He knew that Oliver would want to know why fire had triggered an anxiety attack. He thought, no hoped, that Oliver would just let his breakdown go, forget about it and move on.

He knew it wouldn't happen, but he still hoped.

And as always, remembering the way he had lost all sense and control and damn near had a panic attack was enough to induce the feeling of being weak in him.

'Even being the Flash, you are still slow. Weak and pathetic! How are you going to save the ones who need saving, like the people of the city, when you can't even save the man you love?' His thoughts spat at him, making him cringe.

"Tell me, Barry, please..."

Hearing Oliver pleading, knowing that his lover wanted to help him but didn't know how, Barry gave in.

He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling vulnerable and trying to protect himself from some unknown foe. He wanted Oliver's arms around him, feel his strength, the reassurance that he wouldn't let him fall and would always, no matter what, catch him.