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“You’ve got to stop coming here, y’know.”
Barry folded his arms, staring across the empty airfield. A few metres away, Leonard stood smirking with hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket, every inch of him a challenge.
“Oh, please, you love this cloak and dagger stuff. It’s so clandestine.” He raised his eyebrows at Barry, who stood his ground, stony-faced. “Come on. Don’t act like this isn’t doing it for you? Me ‘n you, a starry night… no one else around… romantic. I kind of like it.”
“I think you should go.”
“Mm, yes, very convincing. Try again when you actually mean it.”
Len started walking towards him. Sharply drawing breath, Barry backed off, and the older man paused. By this time he was just a few feet away, almost close enough to touch. He could have crossed the space between them in half a heartbeat, had Leonard in his arms before either of them had time to take another breath. Bowing his head, Barry clenched his fists.
“It’s not as if you weren’t expecting me,” Len said. “It is Valentine’s Day, after all.” He held out his hand. “We both know I’m not usually the mushy type, so you’d better enjoy it while it lasts. Come on. Dance with me.”
“I’m not – ”
Ignoring his protests, Len grabbed his hand and yanked Barry towards him. Suddenly they were chest to chest. Barry’s heart hammered; for a moment he swore he could feel Len’s pulse thundering away against his own. His resistance crumbled like a sandcastle. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on Leonard’s shoulder.
For a moment, they stood in silence, embracing. Then, Len stepped back, put a hand on Barry’s waist and started leading him in a slow-dance. With a complete lack of enthusiasm, Barry allowed himself to be manhandled, but he made no attempt to join in properly. Just let Len reposition his limbs, nudge him backwards every couple of steps. Len scowled.
“You can do better than that. I know you’ve got moves, when it suits.” He softened slightly. “Humour me.”
It was so rare to hear him speak without the sarcastic lilt that Barry found himself acceding. There were no real steps, just a slow, easy sway; it really wasn’t so hard to fall into step with him, let Len spin him around in the moonlight, holding him close. Barry’s chest ached.
“That’s more like it,” Len said as they continued to turn, revolving in a slow circle together.
“We can’t keep doing this,” said Barry. “I can’t keep doing this. It – it’s gotta stop, Len.”
“You think I don’t know why you come here?” Len challenged. “To this creepy, abandoned airfield where nobody in their right mind would go? You tell yourself you come here to think, or to be alone, but I know better.”
“I come here to remember all the times you betrayed me,” said Barry, refusing to look him in the eyes. “All the times you let me down.”
“I preferred to think of it as teaching you a lesson.”
Barry gave a bitter snort. “Right. Stabbing me in the back, shooting me and releasing a bunch of angry metahumans to do their worst to my city. Sure beats the Discovery Channel.” He shook his head. “Ferris Air was the first time you screwed me over, so… I guess being here is a pretty good reminder.”
“You used to be a much better liar,” said Len. “You come here to remember me. Don’t deny it.”
Barry opened his mouth, and found that he couldn’t. Throat burning, he closed his eyes.
“You’re not real,” he said. “You died. They told me. You were blown up at the oculus; there wasn’t even enough left of you for them to bury. You’re just…gone.”
“And yet here we are,” Len said. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Whether you’re a little crazy? It wouldn’t surprise me. After everything you’ve been through, I always expected you to snap.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” demanded Barry, “Isn’t it bad enough that you’re gone, without all of this? I played enough of your sick games before you went off and got yourself blown up, and now I have to deal with this, too?”
“Guess it’s your come-uppance,” Len said. “I saved time. I turned into the hero you always wanted me to be.”
“I never wanted you to be a hero,” Barry said, forcing the words past the thistles growing in his throat. “I just wanted you to be...” He swallowed, his throat aching. The sentence stuck in his throat, unfinishable. “I never should’ve let you go with them.”
Len shrugged. “No use crying about it now.” He spun Barry under his arm, giving the speedster time to blink the tears out of his eyes and recover himself slightly before they were once again face to face. “You spend way too much time looking back. It’s time to think about the future.”
“What future?” Barry demanded. “The future where I spend my evenings hanging out in an airfield with my own hallucination? The one where I go crazy and start talking to myself, telling you all the stuff I never got to tell you, because I was never brave enough to admit that I loved you?”
“I always knew you loved me, Barry.”
“Yeah, well I should’ve said it anyway,” said Barry, and wrenched his hands away.
He turned his back on Leonard, shoulders shaking, trying to get a grip on himself. Arms slipped around his waist, the warmth of a familiar body pressing against his back, and then Len’s chin was resting on his shoulder, their cheeks pressing together as he held him. A tear crept out from between Barry’s eyelashes and ran down his cheek, gleaming in the dark, and Leonard held him tighter, his breath cool on Barry’s neck.
“Why can’t you just leave?” Barry whispered.
“Maybe because you can’t stop running after me.”
Barry shuddered. Truth be told, he didn’t have a response for that. He saw Leonard everywhere, but most frequently here; this was somewhere he could always be trusted to be. Elsewhere, there were… glimpses. Flashes of a reflection in windows as he passed; the sound of low laughter in his ear, or the brush of a stranger’s cool hand against his as they passed him on the sidewalk. Even those momentary glances were torturous to him – but here, Leonard was tangible, touchable, and no matter how badly it tore at him, he couldn’t seem to stop coming back.
Eventually, Len’s grip on him loosened. Sighing, he stepped away, leaving a chill on Barry’s skin where the warmth of him had been.
“I only wait here because I know you’ll look for me,” said Len.
“I love you,” Barry said, eyes open, staring ahead into empty space.
Resounding silence. Fresh tears spilled, and his fingers curled into fists so tight it seemed that they would crack.
“Could you say it back?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Just once? I know you’d never really say it. Even if you did ever love me, I – I don’t think you could. Not out loud. But if you’re not...” He swallowed. “If all of this is in my head, then… it doesn’t matter if you would’ve said it or not. I just need to hear it. Please.”
Still no response. Furiously, Barry turned around, and then realised with a pang that he was alone again. Ferris Air was empty, and his only companion was the velvet black sky, and a faint smattering of stars winking brightly overhead.