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Oliver sped through every red-light, around every car in his way, in his rush to get to S.T.A.R labs. He couldn’t be too late—he just couldn’t. He pushed the bike to its limit until he reached the labs, not caring how hard it hit the ground when he jumped off and ran inside.
When he finally made it into the main cortex, his heart plummeted to the ground. He was too late.
John Constantine, Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, and Joe and Iris West, along with Nyssa al Ghul, all stood solemnly around the bed in the makeshift hospital room, tears falling freely.
Constantine was the first to notice Oliver walk in. He cleared his throat and stepped back, motioning for the others to do the same. There, laying still as death on the bed, was a young, chestnut-haired man. Oliver stepped forward slowly, not really believing what he was looking at. After all they’d been through, it couldn’t end like this.
Barry Allen couldn’t be dead.
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The first time Oliver Queen laid eyes on Barry Allen, he was straddling his waist in the middle of a deserted road.
He and his partner, Nyssa, were transporting an artifact, the Staff of Horus, for their Ra’s, Malcolm Merlyn. They didn’t expect a tree to have fallen in the road.
Nor had they expected something faster than they could see breaking into their car and stealing the staff from right under their noses. Oliver had been the first to react, jumping from the car, bow in hand, and firing an arrow where he thought the blur might be.
The blur stopped, tumbling to the ground when the arrow struck its calf. Oliver raced over to his prey, who was fighting to get away, and pinned it down to the ground with his body.
“You’ve just made a huge mistake.” He growled, pulling the hood that the thief was wearing off his head. His breath caught in his throat. Laying out on the ground, staff in hand, was the most beautiful human being he’d ever seen. It was a young man—his eyes a dazzling shade of hazel with a twinkle behind them, his lips delicate and beautiful, his hair thick and soft enough looking for Oliver to want to run his fingers through. Their eyes locked, and the thief stopped struggling.
“Hi.” The thief breathed, obviously as stricken as Oliver. The assassin swallowed hard.
“OLIVER!”
He turned to see Nyssa climbing out of the car, weapons ready. It seemed to break the spell between the two, because the next thing Oliver knew, he was being thrown back and the thief was speeding away, along with the staff.
“What was that?” Nyssa demanded, peeved that they’d lost the artifact.
“I…I don’t know.”
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That meeting had changed everything. Oliver became obsessed with finding the thief again, hiding it under the guise of reacquiring the staff. It was like something had unlocked in him the moment their eyes had met, and Oliver needed to feel it again.
Which is why, when he finally did find the thief again, Oliver used a net. Really, the thief should’ve seen it coming. He struggled against the net holding him against the shipping container, fighting to loosen the arrows holding it up so he could free himself. Oliver laughed at his futile attempts.
“I wouldn’t use your speed to try and get out, Flash.” The thief’s head perked up at the mention of his name. “Or should I say Barry Allen? That net is made to shock any attempt to get free, including using metapowers.”
He stepped forward until he and Barry were as close as they’d been back on the road. “I propose a deal. If you give me the Staff of Horus, I’ll forget that I saw you, and Eobard Thawne will never know you were here.”
Barry Allen’s eyes widened. “You know about Thawne?”
“The League knows everything.”
“Then you know I was framed!” Barry growled, his hands clenching into fists. “I’ve never killed anyone, and I’ve only started robbing people for survival.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “I really don’t care if you’re guilty or innocent. I just want the staff back.” Barry licked his lips nervously, and Oliver knew. “You’ve already fenced it.”
“I know where it is though!” The speedster insisted. “I just sold it yesterday. Their buyer doesn’t show up until Monday. I can take you there and you can get it back.”
Oliver stepped closer, his eyes boring into Barry. Reports from Central City called the Flash aka Barry Allen a psychopath—the man murdered his father using his superspeed before robbing the owner of S.T.A.R labs, Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne for those that knew better) and threatening to kill him. Looking at this kid in front of him told Oliver different story, though. He’d met con men, guilty men that insisted they were innocent, and honest to God psychos. Barry didn’t seem like any of them. In fact, Barry was completely unlike anyone Oliver had ever met.
Oliver shook away the thought. He’d only just met the kid. There was no way he had such an impact on him. He pulled one of the arrows free, releasing Barry from his trap. “Take me there. And if I even get an inkling that you’re going to betray me, I’ll kill you.”
After taking Oliver to the buyer and helping him fight to get it back, Oliver realized something—in the two encounters he’d had with Barry, he’d fallen in love.
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Barry hadn’t known that he was in love until Cisco Ramon told him. After fleeing from Central and Eobard Thawne, Cisco and Caitlin were the only two people from his life he stayed in contact with—Joe was a police officer that needed plausible deniability, and Iris was bad at keeping secrets from her dad. Cisco and Caitlin had been irreplaceable. Without them bringing him news or bringing him supplies when he needed to stay low, Barry would’ve been caught a long time ago.
“Dude.” Cisco said a few weeks after his and Oliver’s second encounter. They were sitting around in one of Barry’s safe houses, chilling on the couch, and Barry had been wondering if he should text Oliver. They’d exchanged numbers for a reason, after all, and it wouldn’t be too strange for him to text Oliver because he missed him, right? “Dude, you were in la-la land again. Were you thinking about Oliver Queen again?”
Barry scoffed indignantly, even though he was right. He couldn’t get the billionaire/assassin off his mind, though. He remembered their discussion about the League and why Oliver had joined after his shipwreck on Lian Yu.
“They saved my life.” Oliver shrugged. “I owed them my loyalty.”
“But do you want to be an assassin? To be Ra’s al Ghul one day?” Barry asked. “Do you even like it?”
Oliver frowned, like no one had ever asked what he wanted out of life before. Which, considering the life he was in and the life he came from, was probably true. “You need to do what makes you happy, Oliver. Don’t spend your life being someone you’re not. You’re so much more than a killer.”
A small smile grew on Oliver’s face. “You’re much more than a thief.”
“Maybe we should both change our lives, then.”
Something about Oliver had drawn him in. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He felt Cisco’s eyes on him. “You’ve got it bad.”
Barry frowned. “What?”
Cisco threw his head back and laughed. “Dude, you’re so stupid. Every time someone says the guy’s name, you go into some kind of trance, like you’re imagining him here. You blush whenever anyone says his name. You’re in love with Oliver Queen!”
Barry blushed, then quickly hid his face in his hands. “I am not!” His burner with Oliver’s number buzzed, and Cisco snatched it up before Barry could stop him.
“Barry,” Cisco read out, holding the phone away from Barry, which was quite the feat seeing as he was both shorter than Barry and not a speedster. “I’ve thought a lot about our conversation about change, and you’re right. We are both better than what our lives have become. I’ve also thought a lot about you, and how you make me feel.” Barry lunged at the phone again, but Cisco practically tuck-and-rolled away. “I don’t know if your feelings are platonic or more, but I need to see you again. There is a party tomorrow night at Queen Manor, 9pm. If you don’t show up, I’ll know your answer. Love, Oliver.”
Cisco was so shocked that Barry was finally able to rip the phone from his hands. “Dude.”
Barry shook his head. “No.”
“But your dreamboat wants to meet with you and admit his love!” Cisco exclaimed. “Not to mention he’s a billionaire, badass assassin. You have to go. You can’t let your fear of Thawne ruin your life forever.”
God, Barry hated it when Cisco was right.
And so, the next night, he was sneaking into a party with League of Assassin security (being faster than the human eye helped out a lot sometimes), searching for the man he loved.
“Mr. Allen.” A sharp voice said behind him. Barry froze at the familiar sound of a cold gun whirring to life, and glanced slowly behind him. Malcolm Merlyn stood calmly behind him, a smaller version of Captain Cold’s gun pointed directly at Barry’s back. “Come have a word with me.”
The new Ra’s al Ghul led Barry into what looked like an empty study, shutting and locking the door behind him. “Please, have a seat, Mr. Allen.” He nodded to one of the chairs situated in front of the ornate oak desk across from the door, acting more like he was having an impromptu meeting instead of threatening someone at gunpoint.
Barry nervously sat in one of the chairs, his eyes staying on the cold gun. Malcolm took the seat behind the desk and propped his feet up on it so casually, Barry wasn’t sure if he should be afraid or not. When the other man saw what the speedster’s eyes were locked on, he laughed and put it on the table.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Mr. Allen. I’m just here to talk.”
Not believing that for a moment, Barry let out a shaky laugh. “Sure. Just like the League isn’t working with Eobard Thawne—I know where that gun came from.”
Malcolm shrugged. “It is true that Thawne had been of some help to the League, but that’s not what this is about. This is about something far more personal: Oliver Queen’s feelings—specifically the ones towards you.”
The Ra’s dropped his legs from the desk and leaned across it menacingly. “You see, Oliver is one of my assassins. He does as his Ra’s commands without hesitation or question. And he’s very good at it. Except now, because he’s fallen in love with you, he’s started questioning things. That’s very dangerous for both the League and for him.
“He’s already packed and ready to run away with you in a spontaneous display of his love, leave the League and the killing behind. Now, his feelings have become a serious problem, and tonight, I’m going to put an end to the problem.”
Barry swallowed hard. “By killing me.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he barked out a laugh. “Killing you? If that was my intention, Mr. Allen, you never would have made it in here as far as you have. I want to tell you a story.”
He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting across his stomach. “I used to be married, a long time ago. Her name was Rebecca, and I loved her more than anything. We had a son together named Tommy, and we were happy. Then, one night, Rebecca was murdered while she was leaving me a voicemail, asking me when I would be home from work.”
Malcolm’s expression melted into sorrow. “When I checked my messages, I could hear my wife dying, begging for help that never came. After that, I left to join the League so that I would never feel that pain again…until my son died in the earthquake that destroyed the Glades. My heart is stone now. There is no one else in this word that I love—I have no more weakness. That’s all love is—weakness; a disease. And there are two ways to end a disease—a cure or a death.”
The Ra’s rose to his feet to stride around the desk, a dangerous gleam in his eye. Barry sunk into his chair worriedly as Malcolm grabbed the arms of it to lean into his space. “You are going to cure him. You will go out there, take Oliver to the side, and tell him that you came here to tell him that you don’t love him. That will break his heart and rid him of this ridiculous notion of love.”
Malcolm stood up and circled the chair. “If you don’t, I will have to resort to the second choice.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me.”
“And I’m not.” Hands came down from behind the chair to rest on Barry’s shoulders. “Killing you wouldn’t stop Oliver from loving you, especially if it were at the hands of a League of Assassins member. He’d lose all trust in the League, and then we’d be in the same place.”
A breath of air puffed next to his ear, and Barry shivered. “If you don’t break Oliver’s heart, I’ll kill him.”
Barry stiffened, his head whipping around to stare at the assassin in horror. “You wouldn’t! Oliver is your heir; you need him!”
“His love for you is making him a traitor. I can deal with traitors however I wish.”
The last time Barry remembered crying was the first time Eobard Thawne tried to kill him. This time, he turned his head so Malcolm Merlyn wouldn’t see.
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Barry moved through the crowded ballroom solemnly, knowing he needed to find Oliver, but dreading what would happen when he did. Suddenly, there was a grip on his hand, and he was being pulled into a small hall closet. Light burst into the pitch-black room to reveal Oliver Queen, grinning from ear-to-ear.
“You came.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around Barry’s waist and burying his face into his neck. “You came.”
Barry started to wonder how many times people had let Oliver down, had promised him the world only to leave him alone. It hurt that he would be one of those people. Barry opened his mouth to reply, but Oliver pulled back to grab his face gently in his hands, like Barry was something precious and breakable.
“I’m going to leave the League, Barry. You were right. I don’t want to kill anymore. And I want you to come with me.” He nodded to a duffel on the floor beside them. “I have everything we’ll need—clothes, fake ID’s, fake passports, money. We can go somewhere that Malcolm Merlyn and Eobard Thawne will never find us. I just…I love you.”
He seemed so excited, more excited than Barry had ever seen him. All he wanted was to take Oliver up on his offer. They could go anywhere they wanted, be whoever they wanted. Travel the world together. Always together.
Oliver leaned in to kiss Barry, but the speedster turned his head away. “Oliver…I’m sorry.” He breathed, fighting back tears. “But I don’t love you back.”
Something shattered behind Oliver’s eyes that made Barry want to take the words back. But he had to go through with it. He couldn’t let Oliver die. “Oliver, you have given me your friendship, which is the most generous gift I’ve ever been given. But I came here tonight because I didn’t want you to have any doubt that all we have is that friendship. There is nothing else there. I don’t love you.”
The assassin stared at him, stuck between shock and heartbreak. Then, his expression hardened. “I understand. I’m sorry if any of this has made our…friendship awkward, or you uncomfortable.” He left the room hurriedly, heading to find a private place to do exactly what Barry was now doing—sobbing.
After ten minutes of crying in the hall closet, two League members came to drag him out and back to the study to face Malcolm Merlyn, a dark-haired woman standing at his side. The Ra’s was grinning smugly. “I take it that Al Sah-him has been cured of his illness?”
Barry nodded. “I broke his heart. You have no reason to hurt him now.”
“Excellent.” Malcolm grinned. The woman sucked in a sharp breath, clearly ready to say something to Malcolm, but a knock on the door interrupted her. Three League members entered the room, dragging a blonde man in a ratty trench coat behind them.
“My Ra’s,” one spoke. “This man was found poking around the magical artifacts.”
The blonde man shrugged nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just been caught sneaking around party held by the League of Assassins. Malcolm sneered at the man, before turning his attention back to Barry. “Take them both away. I will let Eobard Thawne know that he can come and get Mr. Allen whenever he wishes.” Barry fought against the hold the assassins had on him. “And you can interrogate our visitor here to find out what he was after.”
The League members moved to obey their Ra’s’ commands when the blonde started to chuckle. “Thanks for the invite, mate.” He smirked. “But I think that I’ll be heading out now.”
The man hung his head and began to chant, fog crawling in around the room until Barry couldn’t see his hand in front of his own face. The League members released their holds on him, and another hand grabbed his.
The next thing Barry knew, he was running out of the room and out of the mansion, the blonde man dragging him behind him. They came to a stop about a mile away, the blonde doubled over panting.
“Why’d you save me?” Barry asked, glancing around to make sure no League members had followed.
“You looked like you were in a bit of a spot.” The blonde smiled. “Anything to piss that pompous ass off. Name’s John Constantine.”
“Barry Allen.”
Constantine let out a low whistle. “The Flash? The thief and murderer? No wonder Malcolm Merlyn wanted you gone.”
He didn’t even bother arguing his innocence. “Actually, he wanted me to tell Oliver Queen I don’t love him.”
Constantine frowned. “Why?”
“Because I do.” He started walking away.
“Hey, kid.” Constantine moved to stop him. “Why don’t you come with me? We can watch each other’s backs, and I have a place we can stay in. It’s a whole hell of a lot better than being alone.”
“You don’t want me around.” Barry shook his head, his tears still not dry. “There’s a man after me—”
“Eobard Thawne? I heard.” Constantine grinned. “I’m not afraid.”
Barry sighed, sending one last look back at the house and Oliver Queen, and nodded.
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After getting his heart shattered by Barry, Oliver dove into his training. For three months, he forced his body to its limits, channeling his misery into fury. Nyssa was the only League member that still spared with him, fear driving all the others away. Before the end of the third month, Nyssa paused in the middle of a sparring session to narrow her eyes at Al Sah-him.
“You really loved that thief, didn’t you?”
Oliver’s nostrils flared angrily. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Because he broke your heart?” She asked, side stepping the punch Oliver sent at her. “Because you’re embarrassed that you allowed yourself to open up to someone, and they hurt your delicate feelings?”
“Enough, Nyssa.” He swung at her again, and she easily stepped away.
“Because, in your heart, you know that he lied when he said he didn’t love you, and you don’t know why?”
“STOP!” Oliver attacked again, only this time Nyssa used his fury to her advantage and knocked him to the floor, her knee pressed against his throat. “Get off!”
“No!” She shouted back. “Listen to me carefully, Oliver Queen: Barry Allen does love you. He came to that party with the purpose of running away with you, but Malcolm caught him first and forced him to say those things.”
She lifted her knee and helped Oliver to his feet. “I care about you, Oliver. Don’t become a puppet for Malcolm’s use. Go after your Barry and run away with him. Leave this life behind.”
Oliver stared at her in shock, unable to comprehend what she was telling him. She rolled her eyes.
“GO!”
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To say that the last three months had been easy on Barry would’ve been a lie. He and Constantine had been living in an abandoned (or so it looked) mill house in the woods on the edge of town. It was protected by magic, which would keep Thawne and the League out, and it was big on the inside that Barry could practice his speed if he wanted to.
Unfortunately, he’d been wallowing more than anything. For the first two months, Constantine had left him to his own devices, catching bits and pieces of what had happened between him and the demon heir. Then, at the beginning of the third month, Barry came to him with a request.
“I need you to use your magic to make the pain go away.” The speedster begged. “I just can’t deal with it anymore.”
Constantine sighed. Over the months, Barry had grown on the mage. He was one of those people that made everyone want to take care of him and make him happy. “Are you sure? I don’t know what the side-effects of such a spell would be.”
“I don’t care. I just want them all gone.”
Now, though, Constantine wished he’d said no. The spell had worked perfectly—Barry didn’t remember a thing about Oliver Queen or his feelings. But it also took away his positive feelings for everything. He’d become angry and cold towards everything, and Constantine wasn’t sure how to reverse it.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Barry disappeared one morning, leaving behind a post-it note:
Killing Eobard Thawne. Don’t wait up.
Without another thought, Constantine pulled on his trench coat and rushed out the door. He had to find Oliver Queen.
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When Barry’s new friend, Constantine, found Oliver, he was searching through the Glades for any sign of the thief, ducking and fighting off any League members Malcolm sent after him. When he told Oliver what Barry was planning on doing, he wasted on time tracking the speedster down—which is how he ended up tackling the speedster to the ground on the edge of the woods between Starling and Central.
“Barry, stop!” He shouted, shooting an arrow at the speedster. The arrow caught Barry’s arm and pinned it to the tree behind him. The speedster roared, his eyes flashing red, and Oliver actually was scared.
“Barry, you need to calm down.” Barry ripped the arrow out and sped into Oliver’s space, grabbing the collar of his shirt and practically throwing him across the forest floor. Then, Barry was on top of him, his hands around Oliver’s throat and eyes burning red.
“I…still believe in you, Barry.” Oliver choked. “I…still…love you. And I…I’d rather die…than see you become a killer.”
Right when Oliver thought he was going to pass out, the hands disappeared. Barry was still on top of him, but his eyes were back to hazel, and his expression was confused instead of angry. “You…would die for me?”
“Does it look like I’m making this up?” Oliver choked, sitting up and laying a hand on Barry’s cheek. “I love you.”
“But I don’t remember you…” Barry breathed, leaning their foreheads together. “I don’t…”
Oliver brought their lips together. It was like magic cut through them. Lightning shot through his body, and it was like a static shock on their lips. The only thought that went through his mind was true love. When he pulled back, Barry was staring like Oliver was the only thing that mattered in the world.
“Ollie?”
Relief filled Oliver’s heart, and he kissed Barry again. “I love you.” The speedster whispered against his lips. “I’m sorry I had to lie. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
And at that moment, everything was perfect.
Until a black arrow struck the tree behind them. Coming over the ridge was a whole group of League members rushing at them, arrows drawn.
“Barry, you need to run.” Oliver pushed Barry away and jumped to his feet. “They’re after me, but if they catch you, they’ll give you to Thawne.” He pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed. “Run, Barry. Run.”
Before he flashed away, Barry pressed a kiss to Oliver’s cheek. “I will find you.”
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Somehow, Barry always knew it would come to this—him and Eobard Thawne, facing off against each other one last time. Only now, he knew it was a battle he was meant to lose.
Malcolm Merlyn handed Oliver over to Thawne as an act of revenge against them both. Thawne sent Barry a message—meet me at the Central City Dam, or I kill Oliver Queen.
So, there they stood. “I don’t understand.” Barry finally said. “I’ve never done a thing to you, yet you ruined my life and want to destroy my happiness. Why?”
Eobard sneered. “Because I hate you. The future you. I want to ruin you.” He held out something that looked like a tachyon device. “And this is how.
“This device won’t kill you—the speedforce wouldn’t let that happen—but it will drain away all of your speed. In fact, it will drain everything from you—every bit of speedforce, every bit of energy. You will fall into a deep sleep, not so different from your coma, forever.”
“You’ll let Oliver live if I do?”
The other speedster shrugged. “I don’t care about Oliver Queen. After you’re gone, he’ll have no more use.”
Barry took the device with a shaky hand and sighed. “Congratulations. You’ve won.” He hooked the device up, and pain shot through his entire body.
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“Barry,” Oliver gasped, leaning over his love’s still body. “I’m so sorry.” He leaned down kiss Barry one last time, one last apology for not being able save him. The feeling returned the second their lips touched, the shock went through him, and Oliver inhaled sharply.
And so did Barry.
There was a collective gasp around the room when Oliver pulled back and Barry’s eyes fluttered open. “You found me.” He smiled up at him, and Oliver could have Barry look at him like that forever.
“Barry…I will always find you.”