Overly Obsessed

Fancomic of a reunion between Barry Allen and Hal Jordan, page 1.

Panel 1: Barry and Hal sit atop a building, both in hero uniform except for Barry’s cowl pulled down. The city lights illuminate them from below against a starry dusk sky. Hal says, “Glad we can finally catch up with each other like this.”

Panel 2: Hal turns his head in Barry’s direction, revealing bright green cracks forming at the corner of his eye. “Must be nice to slow down for once, huh?” he says.

Panel 3: Closeup of Barry’s eyes going wide, noticing the fractures on Hal’s face.

Panel 4: Closeup of Hal’s eyes, green cracks spreading across his mask. The faint outline of his pupils glance up at Barry.

Panel 5: Barry looks stunned in return.

Panels 6-9: Sequence of the cracks spreading from Hal’s neck to his chest and arms, all the way down to his hand. Barry tentatively reaches out to place his hand on top of it, thumb rubbing the fracture on one of Hal’s fingers as if trying to smooth it out.

Panel 10: Barry turns his head away, the top half of his face cut off by the panel. “Yeah,” he says stiffly.

Page 2:

Panels 1-2: Hal is in silhouette, viewed from behind. He looks down at their hands before looking back up with a smile. “Someone’s clingy.”

Panel 3-5: The sequence of panels are outlined like cracked glass. Barry’s hand stills on top of Hal’s but he can’t bring himself to let go. He squeezes it instead. “Sorry,” he says. A close-up of his eye glances up, filled with guilt.

Panel 6: Hal looks back at Barry, the panel taking up most of the page and shattering like a broken window. In half of the shards, Hal is the same, present in GL uniform with the sky darkening behind him. In the other shards, Hal resembles the version of him from Barry’s nightmare, skin burnt and mottled with green cracks all over his body in the same place as what Barry had been seeing.

Current Hal starts to say, “You miss me that much?”

Nightmare Hal says in faint, cracked word bubbles, “It killed me, but you wouldn’t know that ‘cause you weren’t here. As usual.”

Current Hal continues to say, “C’mon, it hasn’t been THAT long.”

Page 3: Sequences of flashbacks fill the page like shattered glass. All the figures’ faces in each panel are obscured.

Panel 1: Parallax gestures with his arms out in a grandiose manner, green light swirling behind him. Barry’s narration box reads: “Hal…”

Panel 2: Barry’s Flash statue stands upright with a streak of green from Hal’s flight making a path right past him. The memory invokes the time Hal visited Barry’s statue after Barry’s death.

Panel 3: Barry looks down at his hand grimly, his whole body vibrating. Hal is right behind him, giving him a small, supportive smile. The memory invokes the time Barry came back to life with Hal comforting him as he tried to readjust.

Panel 4: Barry and Hal are sitting at a bar construct in the sky as Hal smiles at Barry with a hand on his shoulder. The memory invokes the time Hal gave Barry advice and reminded him that every second is a gift.

Panel 5: Barry’s POV of looking at his own hands, sharp-taloned and weathered by the Speed Force. His suit is singed off up to his wrists and sparks fly off his skin. Past his hands is Nightmare Hal’s dismembered body, broken up into fractured blocks. The memory invokes the time Barry shattered Hal in Knight Terrors. Barry’s narration box reads: “I could never miss you enough.”

Page 4:

Panel 1-2: Flash-forward to Hal and Barry on the roof, a close-up of Barry’s hand on Hal’s as before, except they both resemble the ones from the nightmare. He lifts his hand off of Hal’s. The panels are outlined like cracked glass.

Panel 3-5: The panels are outlined in green. Barry forces a smile, looking up at the sky instead of Hal. “You wish,” he says. The next panel zooms in on their hands which have returned to normal. Barry’s hand now sits next to Hal’s, but it’s vibrating tensely against him. A close-up of Hal’s eyes glance down at it.

Panel 6: From behind, Hal stares up ahead pensively. Barry is silhouetted, head tilted downwards.

Page 5: A series of 3 present-day panels overlay a backdrop of sequential panels. The background panels are framed like a broken window, each fracture a panel.

Present-day panels:

Panel 1: Barry’s hand vibrates tensely when it gets nudged by Hal’s pinky. Hal and Barry’s hands resemble their hands from the nightmare, with Hal’s hand fractured with green cracks and Barry’s hand sharp and weathered. A panel in the background reveals a shot of Barry looking down in trepidation at Hal’s touch.

Panel 2: Hal’s hand reaches over Barry’s hand, fingers going beneath his palm. The cracks in Hal’s hand are fading. Barry’s hand is also starting to return to normal.

Panel 3: Hal’s fingers interlock with Barry’s. Hal and Barry’s hands have fully returned to normal, without cracks or injury.

Background panels, from left to right: Nightmare Barry balls his hand into a fist before it gets swept away in a motion of lightning. Nightmare Hal’s hand is severed, the open wound blotchy, bright red, and solid without bone. The ring on his fist gradually pulls him together, veins stretching out to connect the pieces. Present-day Hal holds Barry’s hand as Barry slowly, tentatively reciprocates. The previously weathered fingers of his suit have rematerialized.

The background panels circle a cracked opening in the corner, framing a shot of Barry. He looks at Hal with wide, glowing eyes. Confusion, fear, and hope cross his face.

He can't believe he ever worked in tandem with him.

"Take a picture yet?" He tossed his head towards him. And though his eyes were covered, Barry didn't need to see them to know he was eyeing him with the way he tilts his head and smirks.

The way his yellow suit reflects in the sun, he could be confused for Eobard. But even Eobard has a spine.

"What do you want?" Barry demands.

He makes a hand motion and five other Yellow Lanterns sink from the sky. "A trade."

Gritting his teeth, Barry narrowed his eyes. As if he'd ever make a trade with the right-hand man of a dictator.

"You see, since I'm from Earth, Sinestro put me in charge of taking it over. And I thought maybe Central City would like to fall first." He holds an arm out, signaling the other Yellow Lanterns to step forward. "Of course, we can make a trade, and maybe I won't start in Central."

"You're sick!" Bolting from his spot, landing a hit right in his chest. Having him fly back. Barry follows him.

This is not Hal. He refuses to believe it. They lost Hal Jordan the moment that succubus of a yellow ring attached itself onto this thing's hand. Barry grieves for Hal. Not this.

Skidding away from his conjured, glowing chains, Barry dives from the other Yellow Lanterns' attacks as he races up a building. The glowing tendrils trail behind as he leaps from roof railing. Twisting back to blow a punch to his back, he's stopped midair when the chains catch up.

Wrapping around his wrist with a flick of that thing's hand. The Yellow Lantern turns, revealing that same annoying smirk as he floats closer.

"Barry." His face splits into a plotting smile.

"Don't call me that." Barry hisses, pulling back.

He places up a hand, commanding the others to hold their attacks.

"What? Scared you might fall?" The chains jerk up and down, bouncing Barry around before pulling him in armslength of that monster. He slides a finger from the back of Barry's jaw to his chin. Blue eyes linger on thin lips before his face is lifted until their eyes lock. His grin widens. "Again?"

With a scorn, Barry vibrates his wrist free. A barrage of attacks follows his drop through a tree's canopy before whirling his arms to slow his descent.

But before he could land, something shoots through the leaves and into his flesh. With a shout, he's slammed against his back, knocking the air from his lungs.

Peering up with teary eyes, he finds himself hanging by two yellow arrows plunged into brick.

Ironic.

"Ollie would hate you for this." Barry squirms, biting back a painful cry as the arrows pull on his shoulders.

"Oh, I know." The Lantern gracefully floats down, "But you like it, don't you?"

Scowling as best he could, he desperately taps into the Speedforce, knowing this one is going to hurt. With his hands against the wall, eyes squeezed tight, and head pressed to brick, he begins to vibrate. A warm gush of blood dribbles from either side.

Then there's a hand grazing up his side. He jerks away, losing his concentration. Breathing heavily, he shamefully peeks open his eyes.

The thing hums low and approvingly at his reaction. Eyes halflidded as he pulls him in closer until their chests press together. Fingers clutching onto his waist, bruising his pale skin underneath.

Then, the stress on his shoulders release. He involuntarily lets out a shaky breath as yellow light dissipates. Letting a crimson red leak down his arm, staining his suit as his skin begins to mend.

"I missed you." He practically coos, but his voice is husky. Dipping down a few octaves as one hand releases its hold on his waist. Coming over to gentley run over the patched puncture.

Barry grabs at his wrists. His mouth turned into something unsure because that feeling's back in his chest. That strange mixture of warmth and distrust whenever he sees this moralless husk of his best friend.

He hates him. He hates him.

"I hate you."

A devilish spark alights in his eyes. "Is that right?"

Dragging his hands to Barry's waist, he runs his palms up and down the length of his thighs.

Biting the inside of his lip, Barry lets him lift his legs until his thighs are grazing his sides. Then, almost experimentally, pulling away so Barry would clamp his legs around him.

"Stop it." He said behind clenched teeth. Barry shifts, trying to free himself when he notices the filming crowd growing right under them.

He smooths his hands over Barry's, getting him to release his grip before holding his thighs right where they are. It was tender. It was loving. God, it was everything he dreamed it'd be.

Something like a breathless sob escapes his mouth.

"Don't cry, Bar." He runs its thumb over his cheek before cupping his face.

"Don't touch me." Barry bats away his hand, ignoring the way the Lantern presses closer. "What d'you want from me?"

"You know what I want from you." He leans up, eyes still halflidded but anticipatory.

Barry lets out an uncomfortable breath. Glancing down at the onlookers, he looks back into his eyes.

This wouldn't be their first time. This wouldn't even be their second. But they never did it with people watching, and he was never this direct.

He hates him. He hates him.

The Lantern gingerly strokes at Barry's waist with an upward motion, hinting at his ever-present army.

"Fine."

Swallowing, he steels himself. Placing his hands on that thing's shoulders and leaning down. He glances to the crowd once more, just to find a news camera pointed their way.

He hates him. He hates him.

Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing their lips together, he feels a weight on the back of his head, keeping him there.

He hates this. He hates this.

"You're stiff." The thing murmurs, breaking them apart.

"I am not." Barry seethed.

"Yes, you are." He mutters, yanking him back in. Moving Barry's head in a way that has their lips slot together and lets him pry his mouth open with his tongue.

His gloved fingers caressing dangerously above his tensed thigh, making Barry antsily groan. Not loud enough for anyone around them to hear, but loud enough to feel the Lantern grin under him and pull back.

Seems like his pride was all he wanted since the next thing Barry knows he's dropped to the ground. Some good samaritans catch him the last few feet and slowly place him on his feet, while other civilians try to reach up and fight the Yellow Lanterns themselves.

"A deal's a deal, Flash." He salutes, "Central's spared." He turns, "For now."

Then he's flying off with the others.

Catching his breath, he leans against the wall, knees weak with the way he said "Flash" as if he still cares. Turning to face the public, he tells them to remain calm and start evacuating the city.

Finally pulling himself from the wall, he let himself follow the yellow light, hoping to catch them before they can properly strike.

"Flash to Justice League." He pressed on his comm, "We have a Code Yellow."

"Where are they?" Superman's voice crackles to life.

"Heading north east. Get ready."

"Roger."

Pulling his finger off his comm, he bites down on the tingling of his lips with a grimace.