Holding On and Letting Go

summary: He wasn't always a hero. He tried to do good with the skills he had and for Oliver, that was enough. But as he tries to connect with his son, an old friend reminds him that there is more than one type of hero.

genre: Family, Friendship

rated: K

authors note: Title and lyrics are courtesy of the song "Holding On and Letting Go" by Ross Copperman

It's everything you wanted

It's everything you don't

It's one door swinging open

And one door swinging closed

Some prayers find an answer

Some prayers never know

We're holding on and letting go

Oliver couldn't remember the last time he'd played video games. It felt strange watching a computer animated character he was controlling beat the crap out of another computer animated character when this was essentially his night job. The feeling of art imitating life was strong and he had to resist the urge to laugh at the notion of the Green Arrow playing a video game simulating beating up bad guys.

But looking at William staring intently at the screen, a ghost of a smile on his face as they took down the bad guys together, Oliver realized it wasn't the Green Arrow playing right now in his down time. Right now he was just a father sharing some relaxation time with a son he was trying to connect with. Life had been tough these past six months, tougher than usual with the transition for both him and William, the team healing, and Thea in a coma. But quiet moments like this gave him hope that maybe life could get a little easier. Not simpler, not carefree, but the hope that every day didn't have to be a struggle.

The sound of the doorbell suddenly interrupted the simulated fighting noises of the video game and Oliver reluctantly put down his controller.

"I'll be right back, buddy," Oliver said, standing from the bed. William nodded up at him before continuing the game as Oliver left the bedroom. As Oliver made his way across the apartment, reveling in how clean and inviting it looked, the smell of something delicious simmering on the stove that Raisa had prepared for them for dinner before leaving for the evening, he couldn't help the smile stretch across his face at how nice it felt to feel at home. The smile dropped however as he opened the front door. Oliver wasn't sure who or what he was expecting but the person standing in front of him certainly wasn't on the top of the list.

"Hey, Ollie," Barry Allen greeted, a sheepish grin on his face with a hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Barry," Oliver said in a quiet exhale, stepping back almost reflexively, allowing the surprise visitor to enter through doorway.

"I hope its okay I dropped by," Barry said, turning to face Oliver as he closed the door, hand dropping from the back of his neck to rub at his other hand in a nervous fidget. It was a gesture Oliver had seen him do many times before. Reading people had become a forte of Oliver's and he knew it usually meant Barry was feeling a little uneasy as he talked a mile a minute.

"I saw the newspaper headline and then Cisco told me what happened on Lian Yu. And then Thea being in the coma," Barry spoke quickly, words spilling out to form a new thought before he could finish the previous one.

Oliver watched in silence as the surprise visitor talked, taking in the sight of Barry Allen in front of him. Dressed in a t-shirt, jeans, a beige bomber jacket and his ever present converse sneakers, Barry Allen carried himself in such an awkward and casual way, so vastly different from the confident posture and maturity he possessed when dressed in the red suit of the Flash. But what kept Oliver in silence, barely hearing the words Barry spoke, was the fact that Barry was even here at all.

They had gotten the call six months ago from Cisco, not two weeks after the Lian Yu incident, informing them that Barry was gone. He had sacrificed himself to the Speed Force to protect Central City, potentially the whole planet, and they didn't know if he was ever going to return. And just like that, after almost losing everyone he held dear, Oliver had lost someone else. He'd lost a good friend, an ally, a younger brother.

"I just wanted to...I don't know," Barry continued with a sigh, not realizing that Oliver hadn't really been listening, "say I'm sorry, I guess, about what happened and that if you need anything I am-"

His words were interrupted as Oliver reached a hand out to Barry's shoulder and pulled him towards him, wrapping the other man in a hug. Barry hesitated a moment, surprised and unsure at first as an arm reached over his shoulder and the other around his back, pulling him tightly against Oliver, the man who claimed to not be a hugger. But after a moment Barry's shoulders relaxed, a smile and a chuckle as he lifted his own arms up to hug Oliver back.

"You're alive," Oliver smiled, patting Barry's back a few times before pulling away, a hand resting on Barry's shoulder the only remaining contact. Oliver didn't care that Barry could see the water he could feel collecting in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's a long story," Barry ducked his head, smiling bashfully. "At least, I'm told it was. I don't really remember any of it other than leaving and then suddenly being back."

"How is it you look even younger than the first time I saw you?" Oliver scoffed, moving the hand from Barry's shoulder to tousle the unkempt coif of hair that seemed to fluff in various directions. It's not that he was ignoring Barry's sentiments or inquires expressed when he first arrived. It was just that at the moment Oliver was preoccupied with the fact that Barry had returned to them, the struggles of the last six months disappearing if only momentarily as he allowed himself to revel in the bit of joy at the notion of a miracle.

Before Barry could provide a retort, they heard William's voice call out from the bedroom.

"Oh man, I'm sorry, Oliver," Barry brought his palm to face.

"No, it's okay," Oliver quickly assured before a thought struck him. "I don't suppose you brought your suit with you?"

"Never leave home without it," Barry winked before he grabbed the bag he had dropped by the door that Oliver hadn't even noticed. Before Oliver could even blink, a spark of electricity appeared and suddenly Barry was in his suit, cowl and all. It was new, a brighter red with gold trim that made Barry look even more like he'd jumped from the pages of a hero's tale. It suited him.

"Oh, wow," William stopped cold in the doorway, having emerged from his room in search of Oliver. He hadn't seen Barry move to change, only coming out in time for it to appear as if the Flash had just arrived.

"Hey, William," the Flash smiled, waving at the boy. "I hope it's okay I dropped by. I just wanted to say 'hi' to an old friend of mine."

"Uh, yeah," the young boy found his voice again after staring at his hero with wide eyes. "We were just playing video games."

"Sweet," the Flash sped over to where William was standing on the other side of the living room. "Can I play?"

"Uhh," William peered around the Flash to look to his father for permission, unsure of really how to respond. Oliver may be the Green Arrow but William wasn't really used to superheroes hanging around just yet. Oliver gave him an encouraging nod and William looked back up at the Flash. "Yeah, sure!"

"Awesome," the Flash followed William into his room, sitting beside the young kid on the floor in front of the bed and picked up the controller.

Oliver hung back, standing in the doorway and watching the two kids immediately become engrossed in the video game. Oliver knew it wasn't fair to view Barry as a kid. The man was in his late twenties, a superhero, had saved the world multiple times and endured more pain in his twenty eight years than most people would in a lifetime. Yet Barry radiated enthusiasm, emanated optimism, and possessed a light that years of the life they led could have easily snuffed out. Barry inspired people and Oliver felt a fierce need to protect him, despite the man's obvious and natural ability to be a protector himself.

But here he was, in full costume sitting with legs crossed under him on the floor beside William, a level of intensity on his face he'd only ever seen in the field. They didn't notice Oliver pull out his phone and snap a candid photo of the two. One day Oliver was sure that William would come to know the truth about his father's friend, knowing that Barry Allen was the Flash like he knew Oliver and his team's alter egos and it would become his new normal. But for now that wonderment and enthusiasm was present, his son was playing video game with his hero, and that was pretty damn cool.

Two hours would pass before William was finally convinced to get some sleep. The Flash had joined them for dinner, telling stories to William about how his dad had saved his life once, to which Oliver quickly corrected as more than once. They'd played video games, Oliver took a few more photos of William and Barry in his costume, and the kid had asked Barry to sign the Flash Day poster on his wall. An hour after that found Barry back in his civvies, sitting with Oliver on the balcony of the apartment overlooking Star City.

"Sorry to put you on display like that," Oliver joked, handing Barry a beer.

"No, it's cool. He seemed to get a kick out of it," Barry smiled, deciding not to tell Oliver that he enjoyed it just as much as William did. But Oliver already knew. It was apparent that it was one of Barry's favorite parts of being a hero rather than a vigilante, his city knowing and accepting the Flash as part of their community rather than living in the shadows. He'd seen the photos in the papers and online of the Flash taking a knee to talk to kids that gathered to ask questions or request a hug after a save. He'd heard the reports of the Flash making unannounced visits to the children ward's at Central City General Hospital. He'd heard the rumors of the Flash stopping to help serve at every soup kitchen throughout the expansive city each Thanksgiving. The city had embraced the Flash, gave him a key to the city and celebrated him.

He knew for Barry it wasn't about the glory, but more about knowing he gave them hope, someone to look to when times got dark, something Oliver suspected an eleven year old Barry could have used after his world collapsed around him. What Oliver had learned about Barry very early on was that Barry had a hard time accepting praise or the feeling of worthiness, that Barry felt like he needed to prove to them that he was grateful and worthy of their acceptance by repaying their kindness. There were more ways to be a hero than just thwarting those who would do harm and from what he'd heard of his past from Joe and Iris, Barry had always moved towards helping people. The Green Arrow may not be the beacon of hope for Star City, but Oliver would be lying if he said he wasn't trying to emulate that idea of hope as mayor.

"It's the first time I've seen him smile in six months," Oliver sighed, looking out upon the skyline.

"You have to give him time, Oliver," Barry said, fidgeting with the label of the beer bottle absently, looking to Oliver as he tried to grab his attention. "Look, I can't give you advice on how to be a dad in this situation. But I can tell you what its like for a kid to go through what William went through."

Oliver thought about interrupting Barry, wanting to spare him the grief of having to recount his story. But as Oliver watched him speak he noticed that even though there was still a sadness in Barry's voice, there was also a level of peace about it that hadn't been there before. It seemed like for the first time since Oliver knew him, Barry's wounds were no longer gaping open but healed. Like all scars they were still there, still reminders, but now just a part of his skin, no longer causing him pain.

"I mean our experiences were very different but the trauma is very similar. I was the same age as William. I watched something horrific, lost my mom to a violent psychopath, forced out of my home and the life I knew, and all of a sudden thrust into a new one," Barry's gaze averted now, looking up at the stars. "You don't know what that's like for a kid to feel like everything you've loved is gone. You want to shut down, want to hide or close yourself off to protect yourself from more pain. It took me six months to finally open up to Joe, to let him in and help me heal, to accept that with him I was safe and loved."

Oliver knew what the loss of a parent felt like, watched his father shoot himself in the head and his mother be stabbed in the heart. But he had been an adult, had the capability of understanding cognitively what he had experienced and how to move forward. The pain wasn't any less valid, but an adult's needs could be met by one's self. A child was dependent on a caregiver and forced to grow up with that loss, looming over their development like a dark cloud. Oliver could only sympathize with William, whereas Barry could provide insight because he could empathize.

"I know its not the same because Joe wasn't my blood and you're actually William's father, but he doesn't know you, Oliver, " Barry said, his eyes meeting Oliver's. "I spent so much time in the West household before moving in after my mom died. I liked Joe, knew he cared about me because I was his daughter's best friend, but all of a sudden he became a part of my everyday life, became responsible for me. Just like you with William. You have to give him a chance to adjust, to accept that this is his life now. He lost his mom, Oliver. She was his home."

"I just don't want him to feel alone," Oliver averted his gaze from Barry to the skyline, staring out at the city he swore to protect but suddenly feeling like it now took a backseat to protecting the life and heart of his son.

"You can't stop him from feeling that way. Believe me, you can be surrounded by all the love and support in the world and still feel so alone after going through something like he did," Barry sighed, his own gaze shifting to the watch around his wrist, the one that was passed on to him by Joe. "But if you continue to wait with open arms, to love him even if he can't or won't accept it, he'll come around. Just be patient with him, be there for him and one day he'll come to want be where you are. It took me a while to realize I could be sad and miss my parents but still be happy with my new family. It's a lesson I've had to learn a few times in my life actually. And as much as I love my parents, I wouldn't trade my life with Joe for anything. He was there for me when no one else was, gave me a home, and I don't mean just a place to stay but the feeling and the love that makes you feel like you belong, that you are safe and wanted. Henry Allen was my father and I will always love him, but Joe West is my Dad."

"Did it…" Oliver spoke hesitantly, "did it ever bother Joe that you never called him 'dad'."

"You'd have to ask him but I don't think so," Barry shook his head, a small smile on his face. "It's not about the name, Ollie. It's about the feeling. Eventually 'Joe' became to mean 'dad' to me and to him when I said it. But we had to get there. You and William just have to get there."

Oliver nodded at Barry's words. He had seen Joe and Barry together, marveled at their relationship and even wished he'd been closer to his own father. Despite the obvious physical differences, Oliver only ever saw father and son when looking at the two of them by the way they interacted. The fact that Barry's last name was 'Allen' and that he called him 'Joe' never weakened their bond. They were brought together by tragedy and in it created something special. He could only hope to have half of that with his own son.

"You should reach out to Joe. No one knows better how to raise a traumatized child, how to make a broken hearted boy feel whole again," Barry said sincerely, eyes almost pleading with Oliver. "William needs you Oliver. He just doesn't know it yet."

"I'm glad you came by tonight, Barry," Oliver smiled, reaching out his bottle to which Barry moved to clink his own against it. "I'm glad you're back."

Barry smiled at him before taking a swig. Oliver couldn't help but stare, marveling at how different he looked from the last time he saw him. How could it be that he looked even younger than when he first met him, look lighter than he ever had after all he'd just been through. Maybe his experience in the Speed Force, something Oliver wouldn't even begin to pretend to try to understand, had let loose the chains Barry had bound himself with in grief, guilt, and regret.

"You look good, Barry," Oliver said suddenly, rewarded with a full beam smile from Barry that Oliver felt warm his own heart at the pure joy that seemed to emanate from the other man.

"I feel good, Ollie," Barry clapped him on the shoulder before standing. "Life moves forward. Sometimes you gotta let it all go so you can move forward with it. Doesn't mean you have to forget, but it does mean you get the chance to choose to be happy. You should try it some time."

"Were you always this wise?" Oliver chuckled as he stood. Barry didn't answer, just laughed as he pulled Oliver in for a hug goodbye before disappearing in a flash.

Now alone, Oliver moved towards the end of the balcony, his arms leaning over the metal rail, hands clasped together as he gazed out across the cityscape. He thought about Barry's words, about the idea of a father that he just presented to him, about the power of a name. It had hurt that William called him by his name. Oliver knew he hadn't earned the title of 'Dad' but it still struck a chord regardless. There was power in words, a meaning in a name. Oliver himself knew that all to well.

His nickname of 'Ollie' was only used by those who knew him in his past life, Thea, Tommy, Laurel and Sara. But those who joined his life after his return, Dig, Felicity, Curtis and the team, only ever referred to him as Oliver. His connection to both groups was strong but the nickname became an easy way to divide his lives. John and Felicity, they never met Ollie and as much as Oliver tried not to be the guy he was before, it didn't stop Thea or Sara from associating him with the person they grew up with.

But then came Barry. For some reason, Barry called him Ollie. He didn't know if it was because Barry's name itself was a nickname and he was just more comfortable using nicknames with his friends when he could. Or maybe it was because of who Barry was. Even in the darkness he'd seen, Barry was a lighthearted guy. Maybe using 'Ollie' was his way to remind Oliver to not take himself so seriously, or to let Oliver know that Barry saw more to him then just the Oliver Queen or Green Arrow image he worked so hard to foster. For whatever reason, Barry was drawn to the nickname and Oliver didn't mind it.

Maybe one day William would get to the point where he felt like Oliver was his father and would call him 'Dad'. Or maybe he would only forever use his first name like Barry used 'Joe'. The young man who could understand what William was going through said it was a tone, a feeling, an understanding between Joe and Barry. He wanted William to feel that, to feel loved, to feel like his father wanted him and not just because he lost his mother. He'd already failed William once, he couldn't do it again.

Oliver thought he might take Barry's recommendation and give Joe West a call one day soon, seeking advice from the man who clearly knew what he was doing. Through all his loss and pain, the boy Joe raised still grew up into a good man, into a hero. And then it suddenly dawned on him. Eleven year old Barry did have a hero that gave him hope that everything could be okay again; it just so happened that his hero came in the form of a dad rather than a caped crusader or an avenging vigilante. A hero was someone who dedicates his life to something more than oneself. That didn't always mean a mask and saving an entire city. Sometimes that meant saving just one life by giving a home and unconditional love.

Oliver could definitely stand to learn a thing or two from that idea. William didn't need the Green Arrow to save him, he needed the kind of hero a child could depend on every moment of the day, a parent. If he could do that, the just maybe they could survive this, get through this and become a family. Then maybe Oliver could finally and truly consider himself a hero.