Disclaimer: I don't own any of these awesome characters and I make no money from this story.
Summary: Barry Allen only knew one man who could understand what he was going through when he woke up with super powers – a man who put himself out there every night to save his city.
The countryside flashed past in a blur of color. Barry could feel the power of the lightning at his back, the ground under his speeding feet, the wind in his face and ripping through his hair.
He drew to an abrupt, sliding halt in the middle of a road and took deep, steadying breaths. It was all so much. Waking from a coma – finding out he'd been oblivious to the world for nine months. That his friends and family had moved on in some ways. Joe's partner was dead and had a new partner. Iris …
He tried not to think about any of it as he eyed the sign.
Starling City 5 miles.
Barry ran.
Oliver Queen was on patrol. The night was strangely calm and he found himself jumping from rooftop to rooftop, with no real destination in mind. All in all, a quiet night and a bit of good news had him in a decent mood.
The kid had woken up from his coma. Barry Allen had made an impression on Oliver. He was smart and brave – it took a special kind of person to stand up to The Arrow like Barry had done when Oliver woke to find Felicity had shared his secret with the younger man.
He might have continued thinking of Barry but something out of the corner of his eye drew his attention.
It could only be described as orange lightning, zigzagging through the streets of Starling City below him. Heading in the direction of his lair. Oliver wasted no time rushing along the rooftops in the same direction, though he immediately lost sight of whatever it was, such was its speed.
He fired an arrow into the building across the street where he and his team had set up shop and launched himself off the current rooftop, zipping along the cable to the lower rooftop. When his feet hit, he heard a whooshing sound and felt a sharp slap of breeze knock back his hood.
Oliver made to pull it back up hastily, but his hands froze halfway up to his head.
Barry Allen was standing on the rooftop across from him, chest heaving as he drew in deep, shuddering breaths.
"What the hell?" Oliver said, looking around for how Barry might have gained access to the roof. "What are you doing here? Didn't you just wake up from a coma, Barry? I know you said you wanted to talk – but I wasn't expecting it to be … today … up here."
For a moment, the young man didn't answer, just stared at Oliver. "I … yes," he said, faltering. "But I … needed someone to talk to and you were the only person I could think of who can help me. And I couldn't wait. I … I just need to talk."
Oliver was thoroughly confused now. Barry had a foster father and sister, friends in the Central City Police Department. What possible reason could he have had to travel 600 miles to talk to Oliver Queen in person?
"Why me?"
Barry swallowed. "Because it's something only you would understand."
"Barry, I … don't … how did you get up here without me noticing?"
A small smile crossed Barry's face at the question. "When the particle accelerator exploded, it sent out some kind of energy pulse. It caused the lightning that struck me and put me in that coma. But it also did something else."
Oliver watched as Barry seemed to war with himself. "And?" Oliver prompted. "Still not following here, Barry."
"It's probably easier to just show you." He pointed to the ground below, at a pile of discarded newspapers. "I'm just going to go grab one of those."
Oliver frowned and shrugged. "OK," he said in confusion. "Still not sure what this is about." Barry didn't respond, he just moved. Oliver's eyes widened as Barry disappeared in a blaze of lightning and then less than a second later reappeared holding a newspaper.
"I … seem to have gotten a bit … faster … since the accident."
Oliver needed to sit down. "That …" He couldn't find the words.
"Oliver, I don't even know how fast I can go," he said. "And I don't know what to do. After nine months in a coma, I shouldn't even be able to stand. My muscles should be atrophied, I shouldn't be … be … like this. And … I don't know what to do. I just, I thought, you being The Arrow and all, you know what it's like to be different. To have to hide something about yourself from everyone around you."
Oliver did know what keeping a secret was like. What he couldn't relate to was having a true super power. But he didn't say that much to Barry – who was looking at him with such hope that he almost buckled under the pressure.
Stepping forward, he pushed Barry toward the nearest ledge and pressed him down onto it, following a moment later himself. "This is … unexpected," he said. "I've never met anyone like you, Barry. Someone with true powers. I'm just a man. I might be good with a bow and trained in combat, but I don't have any kind of abilities like … like this."
Barry nodded. "No, I know," he said. "But … you're a hero, Oliver. You save this city all the time, whether people acknowledge it or not. And I can't imagine doing anything else with this ability of mine. I want to help people, too. I just … I don't know if I can. Dr. Wells said I shouldn't be risking myself, I should be letting him run tests to see if my fancy new ability to heal fast and run fast can save lives."
"You heal fast, too?" Oliver breathed. "Lucky!"
Barry chuckled. "Yeh, apparently I do. Broke my wrist and it healed in three hours."
"How'd you break your wrist?"
"Uhm, I couldn't put the brakes on…"
Oliver out right laughed. "I can picture that, actually," he said, patting Barry on the shoulder.
Barry poured his heart out to Oliver, outlining all his fears about being inadequate, all his insecurities. And Oliver listened. And nodded. And "uh-huhed". When Barry drew to a close, he looked earnestly at his companion.
"Barry," Oliver said firmly. "You are smart. You're selfless. You're exactly the kind of man I could see saving a lot of lives. And with this ability to run like a bolt of lightning, I imagine not much will be able to stand in your way." He turned to face the younger man fully. "You would make a good hero for Central City," the man continued. "You already fight crime, as a CSI. I say, take it to the next level. Don't worry about Dr. Wells. He can study a vial of blood – he doesn't need all of you."
A smile slowly crossed Barry's face. "Yeh," he said. "You're right. He can. And … I can. I can do it. I can help people. I can be a … a hero."
Oliver slapped him on the shoulder. "Damn straight," he said, standing and moving to the edge of the rooftop. "You can inspire people, in a way that I never could. Watching over your city like a guardian angel. Making a difference. Saving people. In a flash." Turning, he moved up on the ledge. But before moving off, he added, "Take your own advice. Wear a mask."
Barry smiled as Oliver took a page out of a Spider-Man comic, fired off an arrow and then swung away into the night. He shook his head fondly. "Cool."
As Barry zipped away in a flash – Oliver looked down at the zigzagging bolt of lightning he left in his wake and echoed. "Cool."
A/N: Also posted on my Wordpress blog: .com. I'm still working on that, but there are a few other stories on there that I haven't posted on here. All "The Flash" fiction so far.