CHAPTER SIX: 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.

"I am scared, Oliver," Barry said.

There was a sharp inhale behind him.

"Scared is more of an understatement, really. It's more like utterly terrified out of my wits. You know, the kind of fear that freezes your blood, and you're unable to breathe or even move, irrespective of how much you tell yourself it's going to be fine."

Barry startled a bit when he felt Oliver wrapping his arms around his own, drawing him back to rest upon his chest. He could feel Oliver's heartbeat and that was reassuring all by itself.

"Do you remember when we, along with Firestorm, fought the impostor Dr Wells? Eobard Thawne? You came from Starling City to help me capture him because I asked you to. Oliver, Thawne almost killed you and I was almost not fast enough!" His voice was filled with self-loathing.

"You could have died and it would've been my fault. I should have trained more, I should have been faster, I should have been better!"

Oliver interrupted him by turning him around to face him. Barry couldn't meet his eyes but Oliver cupped his cheeks in his hands and lifted his face to look him in the eye.

"Barry, hey, listen to me," Oliver said, his voice raspy. "It was my choice to come over to Central City, you understand? My choice to help you. And I don't regret it, not even a single bit. And as for me almost dying- Barry, the important thing is that I didn't. I'm still alive."

He dropped one of his hands to capture one of Barry's that was still wrapped around himself. Like he did that night amidst Barry's panic, he brought Barry's hand up and placed it directly over Oliver's heart, it's beat strong and steady.

"I'm still alive, Barry, and in the end that's what counts. The important thing is that you saved me. Do you hear me? You saved me," Oliver enunciated each word, looking deep into Barry's eyes which had a suspicious sheen to it.

Barry nodded reluctantly. Looking at him, Oliver was struck with a thought.

"That's not the only thing though, was it?"

Barry hesitated before shaking his head in the negative.

"I told you about Vandal Savage, remember? I told you that he defeated us and that I had travelled back in time when running."

Oliver nodded. He had a bad feeling about this. Even then, he had felt like Barry had been hiding something from him.

"Savage didn't just defeat us. He decimated us. You and I were the ones facing him in the end. And-" Barry's voice broke. He took a deep breath and soldiered on, desperate to finish it.

Oliver on the ground, fallen.

"The energy from the staff lashed out."

Oliver looking up at him, defiant till the end.

"We were too late. He was too powerful."

Run, Barry, RUN!

"You told me to run."

Barry didn't want to. He couldn't leave Oliver. But there was no time.

"There wasn't enough time to do anything. And so, I ran."

The golden wave of energy whipping through the air, with the staff as the centre point.

"But not before I saw you die, right in front of my eyes."

Oliver crumbling to dust, his eyes locked on to Barry's, screaming at him to run and save himself.

"And I couldn't do anything. All I could do was run so fast that I travelled back in time and created an alternate path. Right after I saw you crumble to dust."

"Barry, oh god, Barry," Oliver's horrified voice cut through his flashbacks of that fateful day.

Oliver swiped at his cheeks with his thumbs, rough with calluses. Barry blinked when it came away wet.

Before Barry could say anything, Oliver had crushed him to his chest, holding on so tight that it should have been hard to breathe. But Barry only found it comforting. He held him back just as tightly.

He was utterly drained, having been through a rollercoaster of emotions. He just wanted to curl up around Oliver and sleep for a thousand years or maybe forever.

An errant thought about being called the Sleeping Flash, the modern day Sleeping Beauty, came to mind. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing, knowing that if he laughed now, he might very well descend into hysteria.

"I am so sorry," whispered Oliver, pained. It was obvious that he was blaming himself for everything.

Barry withdrew, much to both their displeasure.

"None of it is your fault, Oliver. Do you understand? None of it."

Oliver looked as though he might protest.

"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for not being fast enough both times."

That finally got through to him. Oliver remembered the times when he had been unable to save someone in Starling City. He knew the way he would be plagued by self- doubt, questioning his worth, wondering if he had it in him to save the city.

"No! If anything, blame Thawne and Savage. It's not on either of us. You did everything you could at that time, Barry. All that matters is that, we won. We are here, we are alive, and we are together," Oliver said.

"You are a hero who does everything he can to save the people. You try your best and that's the important thing, Barry. Central City is grateful for the Flash. The Wests love you and you are their family. Both our teams respect you and love you for who you are. And I am so damn glad that you are mine just as I am yours."

Oliver rested his forehead on Barry's. Looking into his eyes, he knew that Barry would heal and stop doubting himself eventually.

It might be a long and arduous process, because watching someone you love die wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but Oliver wasn't going anywhere. No matter how low Barry was feeling, Oliver would be right beside him. He'd be there to steady him if he faltered, catch him if he fell.

Because that's what you do for the people you love. You stay by their side, come hell or high water. You share each other's strength, be the other's rock. And, you never ever give up on them.

"I can't lose you, Oliver."

"You won't. I promise."

"And you won't lose me either. I'll find my way back to you always."

"Just like I will, back to you."

I love you.

I love you too.

A/N: Whoot!

This chapter put me through a bloody wringer, jeez!

Writer's block hit me hard. All the ideas and thoughts were accumulated in my brain but I could put none of it in words. Gah!

Anyways, this might not be up to my usual standards and I'm feeling quite apprehensive about it.

Tell me what you think or what you'd like to see in the story via comments or PM.