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Dear Oliver,
I don’t know if I will make it out of this alive, but if I don’t, I don’t want to die without telling you this.
I’ve had a thing for you since we first met. Yeah, you were rude and a couple of your remarks stung but something about you pulled me to you. I found out you were the Arrow and I learnt the phrase ‘never meet your idols’. So of course, I don’t like you as the Arrow — that guy’s a douche — but I like you a lot as Oliver Queen.
I can’t exactly tell you why I do, I just know I like you a lot. Maybe even love you.
I’ll have to sleep on that.
If I even have time to sleep.
I don’t have much time, so I think I’ll end it here and hope you somehow receive this letter.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I know you won’t receive this, but writing to you calms me down a lot, so here we go.
I managed to kill Eobard, but he struck me before he died. I thought I was fast enough to dodge his hit but he was faster and now I don’t know where I am and how I ended up here. I’m gonna take a look around.
It’s the West house. I think I see Joe downstairs. I’m gonna ask him what’s going on.
I’ll update you.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I’m apparently in the Speed Force. I don’t know how I ended up here and the Speed Force is being incredibly useless. Every time I ask it a question, it answers cryptically.
Oh, turns out it wasn’t Joe. It’s some being that can shape shift called the Speed Force. I think I died and I ended up here. Am I even dead? I don’t feel dead. But nothing here feels real either.
The Speed Force has been bringing me to places as different people. In the West house as Joe, a park as Iris, my mother’s grave as my dad and my house as my mom, but everything it says, I don’t get it. It wants me to catch this running thing but I can’t. For some reason, I don’t have my speed. It says I can return to you all if I want, but it will be without my speed.
I’m staying.
It’s not that I don’t want to return to all of you, it’s just… after failing everyone, I wanted to come back with a win. Maybe come back stronger, faster.
Better.
So I’ll stay here for the time being. I’m sorry, Oliver. I promise I’ll come home soon.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
The Speed Force gave me an offer today. Go back in time and save my mother.
I think it’s a trick, but they said it’s not real. It’s just to see how my life would have turned out if my mother didn’t die that night.
I’m taking the offer. It’s not real and everything will be reset when I want to.
If that reality means I don’t know you, then I’ll come back.
I’ll still write to you.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I saved my mother, and I’m writing this while watching you across Jitters.
In this timeline, Joe just doesn’t go to work. He’s terrible at his job — always late, never handing up assignments on time… And Iris doesn’t know me. She went to different schools from me, probably. My parents are alive, not in jail, happy. Cisco’s the richest man in the world, Caitlin is an eye doctor. Wally is the Flash. I don’t know where Dr Wells is. But everything seems happy, everyone seems happy.
Everyone except you.
I don’t have the full details about your life in this alternate timeline, but I made a couple trips to Starling and researched a little to find out what happened.
Your relationship with Laurel became sour because her family didn’t approve of you so you guys broke up. You later got together with Felicity when you met her at your dad’s workplace (Queen Consolidated doesn't exist?) and as it turns out, she’s horrible here. She got close to you and then dirtied your good name. You took a reasonable chunk of your family’s finances (your family aren’t just billionaires, you’re multibillionaires) and you retreated to Central City to study, to try to rebuild your reputation in a new city. I go to the same college as you and we’ve talked a couple times, I think.
You’re looking at me weird. I should stop writing.
I really want to talk to you but I don’t know how.
I will. Someday. I will talk to you soon.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
Today’s the day I talk to you. I’m gonna cut the note short here and I’ll continue it after I make my move.
Hey, I’m back. I don’t want to forget any part of our conversation, so I’m writing it down here as best as I can remember. I sound embarrassing but I was nervous about seeing you again.
I used my speed to steal your wallet to start conversation with you. It’s pretty stupid of me to do, actually. If anyone saw me, I would sabotage Wally. I was nervous to talk to you, even with the wallet in my hand. I’ve talked to you a lot in college (in this timeline, we’re somehow the same age. I don’t get it either.) I managed to pick up the courage to tap your shoulder and return the wallet to you. I wanted to say something clever, so unless you count ‘Is this yours? I think maybe you dropped it.’ as clever, I botched it.
You didn’t realize I stole it so you were grateful, saying you didn’t realize you dropped it. I said it was okay, then you said, “Wait, I've I've seen you before, haven't I? Uhh, we actually went to college together.” I was so glad I researched our history beforehand and you remembered me. You called me Larry but I didn’t mind.
I corrected you and you apologized. I felt like the conversation was going to end so I tried to push it further, “We had, um, Mr…” I had forgotten his name but you finished it for me, Mr Hinkley, for math. We laughed about how he used to always hit the chalkboard with his fist and all the dust would come flying off. How he'd look just likePig-Pen from Peanuts.
You asked me how I was and I said I was a CSI over at CCPD. You said you worked as the CEO of a startup company, Queen Consolidated. The conversation kind of died there but you called me your hero for today. I said I was glad I could be there for you and asked if you wanted to get coffee — then I realized you were already drinking coffee — so I added that I meant at a different time with me. Then my nervousness made me ramble about how it could be any kind of beverage, like a wine or a beer, not that I wanted to get you drunk. I then said we could get iced tea, asking you, “Do you like iced tea? Do — would you wanna get an iced tea with me?”
You said yes after looking at me weird and you said, “Barry Allen, you're very cute, you know that? But you should try talking a little slower.”
I left after that. This letter’s a little long but I did talk to you and talking to you makes my heart ramble, as cheesy as it sounds.
I gotta go. My captain’s calling me.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I met you at Queen Consolidated (it feels weird that it’s in Central and not Starling) and your dad and you apparently have a bad relationship. He acted all weird when I turned up, asking me if I thought it was a good idea to date his son. You defended me and said it was just lunch and that you were curious as to why he was in your building in the first place. You left him there and just to irritate your father, held hands with me.
You didn’t mean anything when you took my hand, but it still made me really happy.
You apologized for the mini-scene with your father and I said it was fine, that I felt bad for him and for you. You pointed out that I barely knew you.
I did, I knew you. I knew what made you mad and what made you laugh. I know how you operate and I know the secrets you’ve told me. But I can’t say that. So I settled for saying that it feels like I know you and if it was weird. You said, “No, I mean, strangely, I know what you mean. I never say yes to people asking me out like that. Yet, I said yes to you. Why'd I do that?” I only answered with, “Some people are just meant to be in your life, I guess.”
We talked a little, getting to know each other. You asked me about my parents — I said they were alive and well — and you asked if we were close. I said I couldn’t imagine life without them (I obviously can, but that’s in our timeline) and that they’re stupid in love. That I hope that one day, I’ll have what they have.
(with you.)
You said I haven’t met the right person yet but that they’re out there, waiting. Just that I have to be lucky enough to find them.
I’ve already found him. I’ve already found you.
I’m not sure if you’ve found me.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I hate this timeline. Every last inch of it.
Sure, my parents are alive and happy. Cisco’s the richest man in America. Caitlin’s married to Ronnie and has a job she loves. Wally gets to live the hero life he always wanted. Iris is a reporter and she’s always wanted to be one.
But you? You’re not happy at all.
You fake a smile every time we’re together. I ask you what’s wrong and you just tell me to stop getting in your business. I hated it, but I talked to Felicity about you. She was willing to tell me anything about you, trying to convince me to hate you, but she can never accomplish that.
Anyway, she told me. She told me you were diagnosed with depression when you turned seventeen, that you’d attempted suicide at least twice over the past five years.
When she said that, I felt something. A tug at my heart.
The depression, the suicide… It’s just this timeline, right? I couldn’t help but feel like this was larger than me. Maybe the Speed Force was telling me something.
I want to leave this timeline, seeing you so upset pains me so much. But I want to try to fix you. Whether I fail or succeed, I’ll accept my failure/victory and leave.
I promise, I’ll try and save you.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
It’s been four months since that last letter, and a total of seven months since I’ve last seen you and entered the alternate timeline (I’ll call it Flashpoint for convenience). I don’t write as much as I wish I did, but most of my time was spent on trying to discover bits and pieces of our histories in this timeline. Well, mostly yours. I was trying to figure out why you were so upset with yourself.
I found out tonight, when you were high on morphine. You said you hated yourself, that you should be dead. That you were a failure to the point where you couldn’t even kill yourself right.
My heart broke more times than it should that night and I’ve fallen apart even more.
We had become good enough friends and I had the keys to your apartment so I went to visit you because it had been two weeks since we last spoke. I found you in the bathroom and there was so much blood, I nearly had cardiac arrest.
You looked so pale and your arms and body, blood everywhere… I was gonna be sick just looking at it. I took you to the hospital and they managed to save you. You died for two minutes and I almost lost it.
I can’t lose you.
You woke up tonight. You told me, tonight, that you wanted to die, have wanted to since you were sixteen. I told you that you weren’t a failure, listing all your accomplishments, how you’ve saved me from myself whenever I felt down.
I told you I couldn’t live without you.
You didn’t say anything and we just sat in silence until you fell asleep.
I really hate Flashpoint, but I still want to help you. I’m not giving up on you, okay?
You can’t give up on yourself. Flashpoint or not.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I’m not in Flashpoint anymore. I asked the Speed Force to send me back to our timeline. I couldn’t take it anymore, every photograph of you in your apartment was so full of life but the atmosphere didn’t feel the same.
You died last night. Two months after your last attempt and you tried again. I wasn’t around then and I didn’t get to you in time.
What’s the point of super speed if I wasn’t fast enough to save you?
I thought the first time I saw you like that was bad enough, but this time was more terrifying even though there was no blood involved. You tied rope around the ceiling fan and the chair was knocked aside. You hung yourself.
I thought dead people looked like they were sleeping, but you didn't. I don't know how to describe it, but there was something about how you looked, motionless, eyes shut, neck bruised, that paralyzed me. I didn't even realize I was screaming.
You would have thought a superhero like me would be used to seeing dead people and I am, but seeing you in that position is something I never want to witness.
I tried to bring you back but you were gone for good. I begged you to come back, you didn’t. So I begged the Speed Force to bring me back.
So, I’m not there anymore. Everyone was happy but you and all I ever wanted is for you to be happy.
I failed you that night. I’m so sorry.
I miss you already.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
It’s been a month since I got ejected from Flashpoint. The Speed Force told me something last week and I still haven’t fully processed it, so I’m writing it out to sort my thoughts out.
The Speed Force told me it was real, you trying to die, just the way I saw the first time you tried. They said you didn’t succeed, but you did try. Iris found you in time like I had, and she got you help. They said you didn’t want her help.
I’m so tired. I’m sure you’re tired too.
Goodnight.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I wish I could be with you again. I want to help you because I hate seeing you so full of hate for yourself. Thankfully, I don’t think your depression is as deep in reality like it was in Flashpoint.
If you receive these letters and you want to talk about Flashpoint, I will. But please give me time. I’m still trying to get rid of the image of you hanging out of my memory.
Please wait for me in the meantime. I love you.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
I love you and I love you more than anyone. I love you more than I loved Iris (which was a lot, believe me)
I’m in love with you.
I don’t know about you, but I want to give this a shot. I can’t live without you, so I want to give this — give us — a shot.
I wish I asked you out before I stupidly ran myself into the Speed Force.
Catching that fast figure is taking way too long and the Speed Force isn’t helping at all. I’m finding my own way back home.
Wait for me.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
The Speed Force came to me again today. Not as Joe, Iris, Dad, Mom, Cisco, Caitlin, Felicity or Harry. As you.
I almost cried at the sight of you being perfectly fine in front of me. It was such a relief to see you alive and well. An alive you in the Flashpoint felt so long ago.
We visited a grave today but it wasn’t my mother’s grave. It was mine. You were there, and I don’t mean the Speed Force you. Real you, sitting cross-legged under an umbrella in the pouring rain, scribbling desperately on the notebook paper. Speed Force you told me to read what you were writing so I walked over to read your letter.
‘I do love you. But that doesn’t mean it works. It means I can’t live without you, but that doesn’t mean it works. I really wish I realized it when you were still alive, because no matter whether you loved me or I love you, this can never go anywhere. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.’ You had written that.
I don’t know how long we stayed in the rain for. All I know was that you left that note at my grave, hidden in some flowers you’d gotten for me two months before. Then you stood up and just stared at the gravestone, umbrella sheltering you from the rain. I moved to stand with you.
I underestimated how unsettling it feels to look at your own gravestone, see your own name on a grave. But you were really here with me and you love me, that’s enough to overpower my sense of helplessness.
I’m coming home. I love you.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
It’s Christmas. I hope you’re spending it not thinking about me. Have a good holiday. My heart longs to be with you.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
The Speed Force started noticing my decrease in willpower. I didn’t even bother to get out of bed anymore, so they offered me something to keep me going.
To see you. Really see you, in our world.
Of course I said yes. They let me enter your bedroom. You saw me, but you ran away. You must have thought you were going crazy. I shouldn’t have sprung onto you like that.
I hope you know you’re okay. I’m real.
Love,
Barry
Dear Oliver,
The Speed Force brought me to a bar (the one we went to that one time. I hope you remember the one.) It was still disguised as you, which helped calm me down and made me more cooperative with it. The only difference was that the bar was empty except for us. The two candles in front of us the only light in the dark bar.
I asked what was happening and it said that I needed to accept that I will never be able to save you. It told me I needed to accept that no matter what I do, I can’t save everyone and that it was fine. If I accepted it, then I can truly find peace in my life as a vigilante. I know I can’t save everyone, and it’s okay. I still try either way.
It also asked me if I wanted a normal life. A normal life, a perfect version of Flashpoint where my friends are still my friends, where my parents are still alive, where you and I are happy together.
It just wouldn’t have been as full. Like you said back at the bar. If things were normal, life may not be as perfect as it was in Flashpoint. Even if it was, it might be completely different for someone I don’t know. If things were normal, I wouldn’t have learnt half the things I’ve learnt ever since I got hit by lightning. If things were normal, you wouldn’t have been happy. My life wouldn’t be full then. I just want you to be happy, and things are perfect and life is full just the way things are, not normal.
I caught the speedy figure and it was me, in my Flash outfit. Speed Force you congratulated me on getting back my speed.
I think I heard you say something, “don’t be dead.”
I’m not. I’m coming home, for real this time.
Love,
Barry
Dear Barry,
Come home to me. Please.
Love,
Oliver