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A signal picked up on the waves and Barry couldn’t help it-- his ears perked as his emerald green eyes darted over to the scanner. He had the decency to drop his gaze sheepishly as Cisco scurried over to the device though, turning on his tablet and honing in on the alert.
After a minute, brow furrowed with intensity, he finally relaxed and shook his head, and Barry slumped slightly. The CSI-- well, former CSI was more accurate really, as he was now on the run and therefore unemployed-- knew that staying under the radar was key for him and Cisco, and therefore picking up zero familiar government communication that linked back to them was desirable, but...he couldn’t help it. A part of him just desperately wanted to hear Oliver’s voice again. Something Cisco warned could be part of the brainwashing.
In the beginning there had been a few broadcasts, but he and Cisco had just barely gotten out of Central City; and that was only because of the Rogues, of all people. With the collapse of SHIELD from the inside, revealing the emergence of Hydra and the scary military types that had suddenly descended upon them, the two young men had realized quickly that they were in it deep. Barry, of course, was listed on the Index-- gifted-- but even worse was the boys finding out that Harrison Wells and STAR Labs was in fact directly connected to Hydra, and apparently Barry had been "programmed" to be less a hero and more of a weapon, attacking agents as they took control. Cisco proved his loyalty to his friend by fighting fire with fire-- or ice, in this case: managing to recruit Leonard Snart and his sister to immobilize Barry long enough to get him out of Bakshi's immediate creepy grasp and move him to a safehouse until he was strong enough to regain his self-control. A move that Barry returned in kind when what was left of SHIELD apparently sold them out to the military, because they’d been surrounded by big scary cars and guys with guns and Barry’d picked up his friend and booked the two of them out of there. Cisco had managed to scramble their location on a burn phone long enough for Barry to get a message back to Joe and Iris, but from there the two had been on the run-- much easier to do with Barry’s powers covering impressive distances in short amounts of time, but pretty terrifying nonetheless, since they also had to figure out how to deprogram his Hydra allegiance.
Barry desperately wanted to contact Oliver-- to see if he was safe, to tell him he was safe-- but Cisco nixed the idea, pointing out that the first call they’d responded to had been from Oliver and his team and led the military straight to them, which either meant he’d turned them over or, worse, that Oliver was Hydra himself and could trigger Barry just as easily for god knows what. Both ideas broke Barry’s heart, and he didn’t want to believe it, but if Dr. Wells could be Hydra, who knew who was what?
And so they’d remained silent, listening to Cisco’s radio to keep ahead of Hydra and the government both and trying to figure out their next move. The problem, of course, was that Cisco and Barry both had a currently inconvenient need to help where they could, and so “The Flash” had started making random appearances wherever they stopped, which only lasted until the police scanners caught onto the weirdness, and then off they’d go again. It felt kind of isolated, although if Barry was going to be stuck in this sort of life with anyone, he was glad it was Cisco.
Staring at the scanner was kind of depressing, and so Barry shifted to his feet. His friend raised an eyebrow and watched as he changed into his suit almost instantaneously. “Be careful, man,” he cautioned, “And also, can you grab some Big Belly Burger on your way back? I have a monster craving.” Barry chuckled and nodded before taking off.
Which had led him to this rooftop, frozen and staring at the figure who was now emerging from the shadows.
He looked good still-- maybe a little rougher than the last time Barry had seen him. He was out of the typical black suit and tie that Barry’d been so used to him wearing, nor the more casual polo and dockers he had worn “off hours”. Instead Oliver Queen now seemed like some sort of broody vigilante type in fitted dark wash jeans and leather jacket, hands hidden in leather gloves and feet silent in black boots. Maybe that wasn’t so far off the mark-- who knew?
The former Agent took a step towards him, and Barry instinctively flinched. Barry’s gut twisted at the hurt that flashed across Oliver’s blue gaze, but he kept his distance. Besides his own safety, Cisco’s-- and Joe and Iris’ out in Key City-- depended on him, and if Oliver had been tricking him all this time, he’d be putting all of their lives at risk. No matter how desperately every part of Barry wanted to wrap his arms around the older man and pull him close-- breathe him in and kiss every inch of him-- he couldn’t risk it.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Cisco would be pissed that Barry was allowing the agent the opportunity to "activate" him, but the speedster insisted to himself that he'd be able to run the minute the other man showed any signs of trying to gain his "compliance".
Oliver let out a small chuckle. “Been following leads, bouncing between the military reports and any unexplained heroics on the police band-- I figured between you and Cisco, you couldn’t keep a low profile long.”
Well, Cisco wouldn’t be happy to hear that. Barry himself felt his chest tighten in anxiety, reading into Oliver’s words. “You’re saying you aren’t with them? Your message led them straight to us.”
“They were looking to hit Star Labs-- I was trying to warn you, get you to safety,” the older man argued.
“Star Labs.” Barry felt a familiar ache as he thought about the place that had practically been his second home. “Because they were really Hydra.” The former Agent nodded. “And you knew,” he added, almost accusingly. "What they were-- what they did. What they did to..." His green eyes stung as he flashed back to what had happened that day-- what he'd done.
“No! Not until-- we didn’t know, Barry.” Blue eyes dropped slightly, as if taking on some extraordinary burden, and Barry unthinkingly took a step forward, head snapping up at an angle to try to catch Oliver’s eye. “It was-- everything just happened at once. I didn’t even think…”
“Where is everyone?” Barry knew he shouldn’t be making conversation-- he should grab Cisco and run, because who knows whether this is just stalling and they only have a matter of minutes?-- but Oliver’s shoulders just look so heavy, and Barry just hated to see the look of defeat so poorly masked for the well-trained man.
Ollie looked back up. “Caitlin turned on us,” he confirms, the bitterness sounding deep and fresh on his tongue, and if Barry had any uncertainties of whether Oliver Queen was Hydra or not, they were gone now. “Sara’s gone missing. Officially, Thea and Felicity are now working for Stark Industries, and Dig has been transferred to military intelligence.” Barry’s eyes went wide and sympathetic as Oliver broke down his entire team, now gone their separate ways or lost in the havoc of the Nazi monster.
“Officially?” The word hadn’t been completely lost on him; and Barry couldn’t help but notice that Oliver hadn’t divulged his own situation yet. Apparently that was uplifting to the former Agent, because his eyes flickered slightly with hope.
“There’s...talk. Just stuff in the shadows, really,” he explained, taking another step toward Barry; and this time, the speedster remained where he was as he listened. “SHIELD’s trying to rebuild, get back to itself. It’s all under the radar, unofficial, but...it’s something.”
“And that’s what you are? Still an Agent?” Barry felt the corners of his lip twitching in excitement-- he’d always had faith in SHIELD, and Ollie had always seemed as devoted, probably more, to the cause.
Oliver nodded with an amused smirk, and Barry blushed, realizing maybe he was acting a little too much like some sort of groupie. “I’ve spoken to the new Director about putting together a new team, and we could definitely use some people that want to bring the organization back to what it was. Maybe some people that we were too...elitist, I guess, to really appreciate their talents before.”
Barry felt his jaw fall open as he processed the information. “You mean...people, like--”
How did they get so close that it literally only took the archer one more step to carefully slide the mask off of Barry’s face? To take the speedster’s hands in his own, eyes focuses on the now fully-exposed emerald gaze. “People like you and Cisco, Barry. People that want to help the world and are obviously incredibly smart and capable and loyal. We want that and need that if we’re going to bring SHIELD back, and--” Barry felt his heart skip as he watched Ollie’s teeth rake across his bottom lip “--and I want you around. I’ve...I’ve missed you, Barry. I’ve hated not knowing where you were these last months-- being terrified that you’d been found, or worse, by Hydra, or the military. That you were separated from everything you know and love, and that you didn’t think you could trust me--”
“I wanted to, but--”
Oliver raised a hand to stop him, though he quickly slid it back into place as soon as Barry’s mouth closed again. “I know. And you shouldn’t have. If I were you, I’m not sure I would have let this conversation happen at all.” Barry ducked his head as a sheepish grin accompanied the coloring of his cheeks. “But we can help you Barry-- we want to help you...I want to help you. I mean, after all of this, I’ve realized there are two things that are the most important to me. And that’s my team, and you. I wanted to keep you separate, to try to protect you; but now I feel like the only way I can keep you safe is if you’re with us, so...I guess I’m just asking you to be with us. With me. I mean, I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but--”
Whatever the positive selling points would be under Oliver’s leadership would have to wait though, because Barry was throwing himself enthusiastically into the other man, capturing his lips as he pulled him close and kissed him passionately. And Ollie wasted no time in reciprocating, gripping at the frictionless suit to pull the speedster even closer into the nonexistent space between them.