Holy crap. This story has been on my computer for so many months, but I never had any inspiration to finish it! But I finally did! And also; THIS IS MY FIFTIETH STORY! O.O How have I done that many already!? Anywho, ;P, so sorry that I've been away! Things recently got super complicated in my life, but I'm trying to work around it, because the people want stories, right!? XD Well, here's one for ya', right now! Enjoy. :)

This is set in 2x08 of the Flash when they have the big crossover.

Disclaimer: I own no part of this, nor shall I ever... :(

Barry's fingers tapped quietly against the material beneath him as he stared up at the ceiling above him.

It was three A.M.

And he was still awake.

But the worst part? He hadn't even fallen asleep yet.

Barry and his team, along with Team Arrow and the others were all at the farmhouse, and it was their first night there. But no matter how hard he tried, he just could not sleep. He knew the reason, but he didn't really care to acknowledge it.

He had the room to himself, surprisingly, but that didn't help him to sleep. He had tried and tried for several hours to sleep, but nothing seemed to come of it, so eventually he decided to just lie there and stare at the ceiling; hoping that it would bore him to sleep. But it didn't.

And now he was just irritated.

Barry closed his eyes, hoping to try and escape his insomnia once more, but as soon as he did, he heard a soft noise come up from the floor below him, and he suddenly jerked as he sat up. And this was the exact reason he couldn't sleep. It was probably just the house creaking, yet he was still freaking out.

He sighed as he threw the covers back and swung his legs to the side; what was wrong with him, anyway?

It wasn't like they were strangers; he could trust them. But ever since Dr. Wel-Eobard Thawne betrayed them, he wasn't sure if he could trust anybody. And thus was the reason why he couldn't sleep.

He could hardly even sleep at home anymore, and he especially struggled with sleeping at Star Labs. It felt as if sleeping was a weakness; as if somebody could just come right up and murder him, and there would be nothing that he could do.

It...bothered him how easy it would be for the enemy to do so many awful things while Barry was merely asleep.

It's been this way ever since he found out about the Reverse-Flash's true identity. At first he would just struggle a little bit with sleeping, but his exhaustion would soon take over and he would be asleep before he even knew it.

But then the nightmares started coming on stronger, and stronger, and then the Singularity...and well, he had missed sleep for about five days before he had collapsed in Star Labs one night. But thankfully, that was before the end of Team Flash's absence.

But he had been getting better...until this.

Barry sighed quietly in frustration, and just downright exhaustion, before standing up and walking silently over to the window; the wooden floor cold against his bare feet. He had gotten up at about midnight to open the window-after a ton of internal debate over the safety of it-hoping that the fresh air would clear his head.

It didn't.

And now he found himself standing at said open window, debating on whether or not he should go back to bed or not. But he soon found that he was moving before he even realized it. Barry placed his foot outside of the window carefully, grimacing slightly when it creaked, but continued to crawl through the-too small-window and onto the roof.

A light smile played at his lips as he made it further onto the roof; leaving his 'room' behind as he stared up at the stars. Memories from his childhood played out in his mind as he watched the clear sky in awe.

This was something he had done often growing up; sometimes from nightmares, sometimes from stress, sometimes from just lack of sleep, and the rest of the times just to look at the sky.

Every once in a while, Iris would accompany him, but she never knew just how often he was up on the roof at night. And even though most of the memories were coated with pain, he still found himself smiling brightly as he did it once again for the first time in years.

And even all of those times he had done it, the stars were never as beautiful, and the sky never as clear as they were right now. He sighed lightly as he sat down and pulled one of his knees closer to his chest. The air was so fresh...but it still didn't help clear his thoughts.

What was wrong with him?

Sure, he had blamed it on his 'trust issues', but really it went deeper. Barry already knew the answer, but he still didn't really want to accept it. Post-traumatic-stress-disorder. He had done the research, but there was no way he could have it...right..? He shuddered lightly at the thought, as his jaw tensed.

It wasn't like he had fought in any wars or anything. Heck, he wasn't even a soldier. But he was the Flash. And the Flash had been through hell and back. So had Barry Allen. If you put those two together, then...well, it practically screamed PTSD.

He sighed.

All he wanted to do was sleep; was that too much to ask for?

You can. And the house right behind you holds so many trustworthy people who are also super heroes, yet you're still terrified. Stop being so paranoid. His subconscious whispered.

But what if it's just a facade?

He weakly wondered back. What if they were just trying to earn his trust, only to tear it to shreds once they had it? Barry's hands clenched simultaneously, before he sighed lightly and ran a hand over his face; the other one still clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

They're trustworthy. They've helped you, so that means that you can trust them. They've never given you any reason not to.

A mantra repeated continuously in his mind.

But so did Eobard Thawne. And you bought every second of it. Do you really want to be that ignorant again?

Another side of him reasoned back, and he found himself screwing his eyes shut at the torrent of thoughts raging inside of his head. It pained him physically just to think about everything. He took a shuddering breath as he lightly shook his head. It looked like he'd be staying out here all night long.

It's better that way. You'll be able to be on guard in case somebody comes after you.

A low growl of frustration built in his throat and spilled past his lips as the war inside of his mind continued to rage on.

But they are trustworthy people. That means that you can trust them to not double-cross you. You have some serious issues going on if you can't even sleep in the same house without freaking out.

He closed his eyes as he bowed his head until his forehead rested on his knee. "Just shut up. Please," Barry whispered as he shook his head. What the hell is wrong with him? He inhaled a breath of fresh air, but it seemed to shake unevenly.

Pathetic. What would everyone think if they saw you now? How would Eddie feel if he realized that he sacrificed himself for this?

Barry's jaw tensed even more as he lifted his head towards the sky and opened his eyes. He ignored the tears in his eyes and swallowed hard, praying that there would be an answer written in the stars above him. Wouldn't you know that there wouldn't be? He sighed again, not prepared for the voice that he heard next.

"Barry?"

...

Oliver walked up the stairs quietly, trying not to wake anybody. He had woken up not long before, and decided to get a drink of water while he was awake. But trying to be silent while walking up the stairs was proving to be difficult due to the creaking of the old wood.

He sighed, suddenly finding his thoughts turning towards Vandal Savage as he reached the top of the steps.

Oliver still wasn't sure what they were supposed to do against an immortal when they were all still human. And importantly not immortals. Even if some of them did have powers, that didn't mean that they were invincible.

He was walking down the hallway, deep in thought yet still aware, when something caught his eye.

Or rather, lack of something.

He paused at the door frame and glanced into the empty room with a frown. This was Barry's room; and Oliver hadn't seen him on the main floor when he, himself, was down there. And all of the doors were still locked, as he had checked before coming up. He was about to go further into the room when he noticed that the window was open.

That...worried him.

Vandal Savage hadn't come here in the middle of the night without anyone noticing, had he? No, of course not. You're just being ridiculous. His subconscious reminded him, but somehow it didn't quell his worries. Maybe Barry just went out for a walk...

Oliver didn't know, but he soon found himself moving over to the window to check.

He wasn't expecting the sight to greet him when he arrived there. There sat Barry on the roof top, one knee pulled up to his forehead as the other leg lay flat against the shingles of the roof. Barry suddenly looked up at the sky with a thick swallow, before he sighed and Oliver found himself speaking before he even realized what he was doing.

"Barry?" Oliver questioned, and the latter suddenly jerked to the side, and he immediately regretted not announcing his presence in a different way. What other way would have been better? He briefly wondered before moving on to the present situation playing out before him. Barry immediately turned back to glance at him before quickly turning away.

"Yeah?" Barry asked, and it cracked just the slightest, causing Oliver to frown.

"What are you-what are you doing out here?" He fumbled his words slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

"Couldn't sleep." Barry said simply, his back still turned away as he shrugged. But just because Barry wasn't facing him, didn't mean that Oliver missed the brief movement, that was all too fast, of Barry's right hand coming up to the side of his face as if to wipe away tears. Oliver's brows furrowed as he nodded slowly and hummed in acknowledgment.

"Mind if I join you?" Oliver asked, and no, he didn't miss the way Barry tensed slightly at the question.

"Yeah, no, I, um, I mean, there's plenty of room." He joked lightly, and Oliver made his way out the window; grimacing at the small amount of room there was to crawl through. Once he made it out, however, he took a couple of steps until he reached Barry's side, and sat down.

He was close enough for comfort, but not too close to make Barry uncomfortable. Oliver only wondered what was making Barry upset. He glanced around the rooftop, the habit of searching his surroundings coming out, before following Barry's gaze up to the sky.

He was almost awed by the beauty of the stars. Sure, he had had plenty of chances to view them, what with being on the island and for five years-give or take some time-but he had never really had a chance to just admire them. After a few moments, he glanced towards the side to see Barry still staring up at the sky; a mixture of emotions showing on his face.

"It's nice out here," Oliver said, glancing at the sky one more time.

"Yeah. It is." Barry breathed with a small, sad smile. Oliver studied Barry's facial expression for a few moments before leaning back on his elbows on the roof and speaking again.

"Nerves?" He asked. Barry's head whipped around as he looked at him.

"What?"

"Nerves. About Vandal Savage," Oliver said slowly with a frown and Barry inhaled sharply as he turned back away and nodded quickly. Too quickly.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, that's-that's it." He stuttered, and Olivier sighed lightly.

"Barry, that isn't it." He deadpanned, and watched as Barry's shoulders sank slightly as he looked back at the roof and not at the sky anymore.

"Can't we just pretend that it is it?" Barry asked quietly with a shrug; avoiding Oliver's gaze.

"Yeah, we could. But that isn't going to fix whatever is going on." Oliver stated and Barry sighed as he ran a hand over his face. "What's wrong?" He asked in a softer tone of voice as he observed the younger man's movements.

"It's nothing, really. I always get this way before, uh, fighting an immortal." Barry joked lightly, hoping to either change the topic or lighten the mood. Oliver wasn't sure which he was aiming for, he only knew that it didn't change anything. Barry seemed to sense this, too, as he sighed and shook his head. "Just...don't worry about it, alright? I mean, it's honestly not a big deal; I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Barry, we've all got a lot on our minds. This...this isn't that. Something else is going on, too." He paused, watching the younger man for a moment, before continuing. "What is it?" Barry bit his lip, and Oliver waited. After a few moments, Barry still didn't answer, so Oliver decided to try again. "Bar-"

"How do you do it?" Barry suddenly blurted out, and it was so quick, that Oliver wasn't even sure he had heard it correctly.

"Do...what?"

"Sleep. In a house full of strangers. It's...it's impossible." Barry finally stated, voice quiet as he fiddled with his fingers and looked down; as if he was to be ashamed of ever admitting such a thing. Oliver sighed as he ran a hand over his face. So that's what this was about. He had heard a lot about what had happened in Central City, and how Dr. Wells had actually been the murderer of Barry's mother. That was...messed up. And bound to make anybody question their belief when it came to trusting. But Oliver didn't even know what to say.

"Barry-"

"I know, I know. It's messed up, and ridiculous, but I just...can't do it. I know that they're all trustworthy, so why the heck am I exaggerating things so much?" He asked, shaking his head in frustration and confusion. "I can't even sleep in the same house as my family."

"Bar-"

"And it's honestly so pathetic, because here you are, having experienced hell and back, so many times, and yet you've managed to come out on top and I know that you still deal with things, and it's hard for you, but at least you can sleep. And then here I am, not even having experienced a fourth of the things you have and-"

"Barry." Oliver said firmly, voice increasing in volume as he tried to get the younger man's attention. Barry immediately stopped, clamping his mouth shut as a sheepish look crossed his face. Oliver sighed. "Barry..."

"I'm sorry." Barry whispered, voice nearly inaudible as he looked down and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "I shouldn't have said anything." Barry said, and Oliver clenched his jaw.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Apologize. You do that way too often." Oliver declared, and he was almost amused at the bewildered look that Barry gave him. "And you do it for things that aren't even your fault. I mean, I asked you what was wrong, you tell me, and suddenly you're apologizing." Oliver said, and Barry looked down, sheepishly.

"I'm sorr-"

"Barry."

"Sor-" Barry clamped his mouth shut to stop himself from apologizing as Oliver gave him a hard stare.

"See what I mean?" Oliver asked, and Barry shrugged lightly, apologetically, turning back to look at the sky. Oliver sighed; not in annoyance, but merely in frustration of not knowing how to help Barry. After a few moments, he spoke. "Not everything is your fault, ya' know." Oliver said casually, though he was watching Barry intently, tracking his every movement in the soft light of the moon. Barry didn't move, just continued to look up at the sky. "It's really not. This? With not being able to sleep? That's not your fault. Vandal Savage? Not your fault. Kendra and C-"

"But I brought them here." Barry declared, effectively cutting Oliver off as he finally looked over at him; his eyes showing just how lost he felt. Oliver moved to more of a sitting position, leveling Barry with an even gaze; trying to get his point across.

"You asked for help. Like any sensible person would. So, no, that is not your fault. Just like how Eobard Thawne lying to you and betraying you was not your fault. And how your father's being in jail wasn't your fault. And exactly like-" Oliver continued, ignoring Barry's protests and speaking over them, raising his voice as he spoke.

"Exactly like how your mother's death was not your fault. You had nothing to do with that, Barry." Oliver declared, emphatically, hoping to get the point across with the younger man in front of him. Barry watched him for a moment, eyes glistening only the slightest in the light of the moon, after a few moments he shook his head slowly, speaking so quietly it was almost inaudible.

"But it was, Ollie. All of that...all of that is on me." Barry declared, voice cracking on the final word as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Barry quickly moved to wipe it away, sniffing as he looked away in shame.

He ran a hand over his face, pausing for a moment, as he lightly shook his head, covering his eyes as if it would stop the tears from coming. After running his hand over his face, he looked up at the sky, sniffing quietly and it broke Oliver's heart to see Barry in this state.

"It's all my fault. All of it." Barry declared brokenly, and Oliver's heart clenched. Nobody deserved to have to live with this. Barry was the kindest person he had ever met, and one of the best people he knew he would ever meet. So why did the universe keep deciding to try and ruin Barry?

Oliver sighed quietly as he watched Barry struggle to keep everything together. The kid carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Always allowing everyone to turn to him when he had problems, yet never accepting any help when it came to his own. It was time to change that.

"Barry," Oliver began, and the younger man looked up at him, probably expecting some more 'meaningless words' from him, but if Oliver's learned at least one thing, it's that actions speak louder than words. "C'mere," Oliver said, reaching one arm out in a gesture for Barry to move closer.

"What?" Barry asked, frowning in confusion, and Oliver sighed.

"Come on," Oliver urged, and Barry gave him one last look of confusion, before he scooted next to him, and Oliver wrapped both arms around him in a hug. "Relax, Barry. You don't need to be so tense; I'm not going to strangle you or anything." Oliver lightly joked, and Barry chuckled quietly as he wrapped an arm loosely around Oliver's back, and rested his forehead on Oliver's shoulder.

They stayed that way for a few moments, before Oliver decided that it was now or ever to make Barry believe again.

"You know, when I came back from the island, I didn't...I didn't think I could trust anyone. Or anything. I didn't think that I could trust my own family, after everything that had happened. I never wanted...I never wanted them to know everything I had been through. How damaged I was." Oliver sighed, jaw tensing only for a moment, before he inhaled and visibly un-tensed.

Help Barry, his mind commanded, overruling the anxiety pulsing through his veins as he spoke about his past-and present-struggles.

"And with that in mind, I strayed away from them the moment I needed them the most, because I was too afraid of them knowing how broken I was. And it was that fear...that panic that if they found out who I had turned into, how different I was, that created my mistrust. It caused me to become distant."

"To become...haunted because I couldn't let anybody back into my life because I was afraid of damaging them, and endangering them, when really, perhaps if I had let them into my life, told them who I really was..." Oliver paused, brows furrowing as the truth, itself, dawned on him, settling onto his shoulders like a cold weight of realization.

"Maybe things would have turned out differently." Oliver stated, voice quieting down as his sentence ended. "But...maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe things could have turned out worse. But you wanna' know something, Barry?" Oliver questioned, noticing the silence of the other man who simply held onto Oliver, seeking out all of the comfort that he had to give.

"It would have been better, because they would have known. They may have gotten caught in the crossfire, but I know that they would have been okay with it, because they loved me. And they trusted me. And they were okay, with sacrificing something of their's for me. They were okay, with losing their idea of how I should be, with how I really am. They were willing...to sacrifice themselves, their lives, to help me, because that is what trust is. That's what love is."

"And, Barry, I swear to God, I know that your family, and Cisco, and Caitlin, and everyone here, is willing to die for you, we're willing to sacrifice something for you, we are willing to do anything for you, because we trust you. We care for you. We don't care what the consequences may be, we just want to be in your life, everything else be damned. And you need to let go of carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, because, Barr, it isn't going to make anything better." Oliver spoke, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily.

"It will only make things worse. Believe me, I know. So it's okay to trust. You can always trust your family and friends. Us. And me. Because a life without trust isn't worth living." Oliver declared, his grip tightening around the kid in his arms when he heard the quiet hitch in Barry's breathing, and how Barry's shoulders shuddered just the slightest.

Oliver inhaled, closing his eyes and quietly blowing the breath back out after his 'speech' ended. Barry continued to shake in his arms, quiet sobs making themselves known only to the two of them. Barry needed this-they both needed this. And maybe things would never truly be completely healed, but...but things would get better. Oliver was sure of it. And somehow, along the way of his helping Barry, Barry helped him.

Barry was the only one who could possibly accomplish being broken yet still helping people as they tried to fix him. Barry Allen was a shining light in the darkest of nights.

And that was why, as Oliver held onto the young hero in his arms, and looked up at the sky, he knew everything, despite all villains, all friends turned enemies, and challenges that seem impossible, would turn out just fine.

Because after all, trust is what makes a family.

How as that for a fiftieth story!? :D I seriously need to know guys. Reviews are what keep me going. ;P